


One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

by SweetestHoney



Series: One Step Forward, Two Steps Back [3]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, First Time Blow Jobs, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Spanking, Not Cap Friendly, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Angst, Peter Parker Has Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sort Of, Spanking, this kind of went off the rails and developed a lot of plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-06-23 16:00:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 42
Words: 96,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19704709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetestHoney/pseuds/SweetestHoney
Summary: Peter Parker is done being the prisoner of Quentin Beck. Well, he's trying anyway. And he's not enjoying the sex nearly as much as it sounds, because well. That would be Wrong. But there's got to be a way out from under the man's thumb, and Peter is determined to figure it out without Beck catching on. As it turns out, sex is a great way to distract him.Continuation from Restraint and Running In Place - You should probably read those first, at least Running in Place, or this won't make as much sense.***Additional chapter added - now fully complete***





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I- ugh. This took over my life a bit. I sat down at my computer for a minute the other day and looked up and two hours had passed. I'm not done writing this by far, but I figured I'd better start posting now because positive feedback gives me so much life and is incredibly motivating. I've got the first 5 or so chapters more or less finished, and I've got a bunch more planned out going forward. I'll probably post one chapter a day of the stuff I already have done, and then see where it goes from there.
> 
> I will add tags as I add chapters because adding them for what I've got written so far wouldn't cover everything that's posted. Let's see if I remember to actually do that....

> * * *

Peter woke slowly, coming out of the haze of sleep in stages. He was warm and comfortable, his head pillowed on something soft and – hairy?

The arm under his cheek was warm, and when he jerked back, Beck didn’t stir. Peter stayed in the bed through sheer force of will, and slowly unclenched every muscle as he tried to get control over himself. The events of the night before ran through his head. He was- trusted? Given more freedom, anyway. Beck’s sleeping form proved that – the man slept deeply, nose pressed against Peter’s neck.

Peter took a moment and listened to the man’s breathing, determining he was asleep. He took stock of his situation, slowly flexing his limbs and going over what he knew. He was in bed with his enemy. Literally. A hardness pressed against his ass, and his body responded in kind. Wincing, Peter tried to shift so Beck’s dick wasn’t pressed against his poor abused ass. That only succeeded in generating more friction. Beck huffed and shifted closer with a sleepy snuffle. Peter bit his lip, thinking. 

He had a choice here. When Beck woke up, he’d want more sex. That was implicit in the gift of an actual room to sleep in, and a bed that didn't feature the latest and greatest in BDSM technology. So Peter, responsible for the hardness pressed against him, had a choice in how he handled it.

He knew if Beck pounded his ass again, he’d be sore as hell which wasn't ideal. If he wasn't going to get fucked, he was left with option B. _Well, option BJ._

Moving slowly and carefully, Peter turned in Beck’s arms until he faced the older man. In sleep Beck looked younger, and Peter found himself struck by how beautiful he was. Peter blinked rapidly, clearing his mind and getting his head back in the game. Wiggling, he inched down the other man’s body. Beck’s physique was lightly muscled and a downy brushing of hair covered his chest; Peter licked his lips as his mouth went suddenly dry at the sight.

_You’re here against your will. Don’t forget that._

He wrenched his mind back to the task at hand, er, mouth, and continued down the man’s body. Reaching the V of the man’s lower torso, Peter hesitated, hands at the hem of the sleep shorts Beck changed into at some point. Peter thought about what felt good for him, debating the best course of action. With trembling hands he tugged, lowering his mouth to the dip of skin revealed next to the man’s hipbone.

Pressing a soft, almost chaste kiss against the skin, Peter's tongue darted out for a taste. The other man was sweat salty, but Peter didn’t mind. He darted a look, but Beck still slept soundly.

Bolder now, Peter pressed a line of kisses against the man’s happy trail, starting from his navel and working downward. He hesitated at the bulge at the front of Beck's shorts. Eventually his hands found their way, inching the shorts off until he revealed the man’s erection. Peter hadn't been face to face with any dick, let alone one this big, and he took a moment to look it over.

He wasn’t sure he’d be good at giving head, but figured he would only learn by doing. Especially if he was here for much longer.

Pressing soft kisses to the head, he tasted skin and something sharper. One hand gently grasped the shaft and pumped along the base, testing. With his other hand steadying Beck’s hips so he couldn’t thrust up without warning, Peter lowered his mouth over the head and sucked gently, swirling patterns along the soft skin with his tongue. As he sank down further, a groan came from above him. Peter looked up. Eyes lidded with sleep, Beck looked down at him. Peter forced himself to take more in his mouth and kept eye contact, enjoying the sight of Beck’s eyes rolling back in his head as one hand grasped Peter’s hair. The tug wasn’t gentle, but Peter didn’t discourage the hand.

He bobbed up and down, stroking everything he couldn’t fit in his mouth with his hand, and let the sensations wash over him. His jaw ached and he probably wouldn’t get any reciprocation, but he’d rather be on Beck’s good side. Peter wasn’t exactly unaffected by the proceedings, either. He was uncomfortably hard and rutted against the bed, needing friction on his neglected cock.

“Hmm, close. Gonna-” Beck’s voice was gravely with sleep. The hand in Peter’s hair tightened painfully and even with his hand braced on Beck’s hip the other man thrust up, pushing further down Peter’s throat and spilling while Peter tried not to choke. Eyes tearing up, Peter pulled off once he could. He took big gulping breaths of air, clearing the spots from his vision. The hand in his hair gentled but didn’t pull away, running over his head.

Peter pressed his face into Beck’s hip, unwilling to meet his eyes. He was still hard. Beck didn’t make him look up, just kept petting his head for a while. When Peter gathered himself, he finally moved away, straightening his clothes and righting himself.

“What was that for, huh?” Beck’s voice was light, a gentle question directed at Peter. He decided to answer with the truth. 

“Didn’t want you fucking me in the ass, still sore.” The other man huffed out a surprised laugh and ran his eyes over Peter’s body appraisingly. He lingered on the tent in Peter’s pants and his hands twitching with the effort of not touching himself.

“Hmm, I can see you might still be sore. But you look a little uncomfortable there, Pete. Is that for me?” Peter shook his head. “Oh come on now, you don’t have to be shy. I bet you woke up all warm and sleepy and needy. Come on Peter, there’s nothing to be ashamed about. You can touch yourself.” The other man was enjoying himself. 

“I don’t- I’m okay, I don’t need to. It’ll go away.” His face burned, and he couldn’t look Beck in the eye.

“Come on Peter, don’t be uncomfortable on my account. Touch yourself, I want to watch you. Think about me and touch yourself.” Peter decided to do what the man said rather than argue and relented, pulling the sleep pants down and exposing his erection to the cooler air of the room.

He hissed at the first touch to his dick but palmed himself expertly from years of practice. He quickly fell into a rhythm. Despite his best efforts not to think, he was drawn to thoughts of waking up warm and protected in Beck’s arms. Disgusted but not deterred, he blanked his mind and moved as fast as possible to get off. A touch to his thigh startled him. Beck, already close, now sat with his eyes fixed on Peter, drawn to the slide of hands on warm skin. He gripped Peter’s thigh, squeezing gently, and that touch sent Peter over the edge.

He came hard, eyes rolling back and hips stuttering. He somehow caught all of it on his hand and flopped back onto the soft sheets when the last of the tension drained from his body. Peter was tired, disgusted with himself, and annoyed he still had any modesty to lose. Getting off while getting fucked was one thing, touching himself in front of his mortal enemy was another.

Aware of his audience, Peter lifted the hand still covered in come to his mouth, making eye contact with Beck. He licked his hand clean, not breaking the eye contact once, rewarded when the other man's expression darkened. He was relieved to note while Beck’s dick made a valiant effort, he was still spent.

“Shit. You – you’re too much, Peter.” Peter squeezed his eyes closed. Beck ran hands over Peter’s body, possessive and demanding and comforting all at once. “I would be happy to never leave this room again.” Peter shuddered.

“Don’t you have evil, take over the world things to do? Actual important stuff that’s not related to me in any way?” His voice was curt, and he rolled closer to the other man to take the sting out of his words. “I’m not that important.” Beck gathered Peter into his arms, holding him close. Neither man moved, and Peter let himself be spooned while his mind raced.

“Taking over the world is a lot of work, yes, but it’s not all continuous work. For people to realize they need me, first they have to see what happens when I’m not there. There will be an incident this afternoon, just a bank robbery, but when I’m not there to stop it they’ll realize that it’s better to have me around than not. After that it’s just a matter of time before they’re falling all over themselves to give me anything I ask for in return for my continued assistance.” The words were murmured in Peter’s ear, and he tried to focus on what the man was saying rather than the pleasant shivers he got from the hot breath against his neck. He only partly failed.

“A bank robbery? Will anyone get hurt?” The arms around him tightened, and Peter worried he’d pushed too far too fast.

“Not unless they’re stupid or try to be heroes. Unlike you or me, the average person is not meant to be a hero, and I’m not anticipating any trouble. In and out with the money, insurance covers the losses and the city realizes they need someone watching over them now that Spider-Man has abandoned them.” Despite his light words, Beck’s voice was hard and Peter realized he treaded on dangerous ground. Instead of asking who knew where he was, he turned the conversation to another topic.

“Well even if you’re not out saving people, I’m sure you have better things to be doing than me.” He turned in Beck’s arms, and smiled up at the man, blinking innocently through his lashes. He was rewarded when Beck dropped the subject and kissed him soundly, rolling so he braced himself over Peter. Peter’s legs spread and Beck pressed against him, but they didn’t do anything more than kiss, naked against each other from ankle to forehead.

Before too long, however, the older man broke the kiss, panting. “You’re right, as always. I do have other things to take care of today, and so I should go.” He rolled away from Peter, towards the edge of the bed. “EDITH, time.”

“It is currently 7:49 AM.” Peter jumped at the sound of the voice from the speakers in the ceiling. He’d forgotten about EDITH’s presence watching the room, and looked up reflexively. Beck watched him as he pulled on his pants, but Peter made no other outward move. Inwardly, his mind raced, recalling the conversation of the night before and the commands Beck gave EDITH. He ran through a list of possible ways he could circumvent the system, but he had no way of testing any of them with Beck still there. Beck confirmed EDITH watched this room, though, and once he left Peter could think up a plan to escape.

He felt a little kernel of guilt for wanting to leave, but he shoved it down hard. Beck was a _bad guy_ and he had been _forcing himself on Peter against his will_. Peter knew that, and yet when he looked at the man he felt a weird sort of dissonance. He knew Beck was bad and he’d leave if given the opportunity, but he also knew his body liked Beck’s body, and he enjoyed the sex. He could do without the torture and everything else, but in another life he could see himself getting along with the man. He’d been so convinced of the man’s innate goodness that he handed over the best weapon system in the world to him, so maybe Peter wasn’t the best judge of character all things considered.

Beck finished pulling on his clothes and circled the bed, coming to stand beside Peter. “I’ve got things to do, so I’m going.” Peter had never gotten this much attention from the man previously, he had always disappeared into those awful mists. He wondered if the addition of sleeping next to the man changed something for him. “I’ll be back later, and I’ll make sure you get food at some point.” He looked Peter up and down critically. “You’re too skinny, you need to eat what I send you. That’s an order.” Peter nodded, glad for a chance to get back some of his strength. “And no escape attempts, or EDITH will knock you out. Isn’t that right, honey?”

“Yes, Mr. Beck, that is correct. Any attempts by Peter to either harm you or escape will be met with tranquilizers.” Peter felt it was a dick move to trap him with a system he gave Beck in the first place, but hey, the man was definitely a dick.

Beck turned to go, but before he did he whipped back around and stooped to where Peter lay on the bed, pressing an almost chaste kiss to his lips. “I’ll be back for you later. Be good, don’t get in any trouble.” Peter wanted to roll his eyes at the idea he could get into trouble in a windowless vibranium box, but since that was exactly what he planned to do, he gave Beck his most innocent, charming smile, the one he used on old ladies that bought him churros.

“I’ll be here, where else could I go? Come back soon.” He reached up and dragged the other man into a very unchaste kiss, opening his mouth and drawing the other man in closer. He let the kiss turn filthy, and Beck broke off panting after a few seconds.

“You- you. God you’re such a slut, begging for it like that. You’ll get everything when I get back later, and not before.” The man straightened and turned, striding towards the door. He paused before exiting and looked back to Peter before turning the handle. Peter made no move to follow him, reclining back in the bed and watching with hooded eyes. Beck pulled the door open and strode through, letting it swing shut after him.

The quick glimpse outside the door gave Peter exactly nothing to work with. He guessed Beck made it so from inside the room you could only see blankness outside. Once the door shut behind him, Peter fell back on the bed, mind whirring and eyes closing again.

He was so tired, of this, of everything. He hated pretending, and he really hated that it wasn’t hard to pretend to want Beck as much as the man wanted him. There was something dark and electric between them. Peter felt it, much as he didn’t want to admit it, and it was a dangerous heady sensation. The urge to let go, to just be Beck’s caged bird (or spider, as the case may be) and lie on his comfy bed and eat when he said and get fucked when he wanted to was a tempting option, one he didn’t let himself consider. It might be something he was okay with as Peter Parker, but he was a hero and he had a bigger responsibility to the people of the world and of his city.

He’d told Beck what felt like lifetimes ago that all he wanted was to tell the girl he liked how he felt about her and enjoy his vacation, but he’d always known being Spider-Man came before everything else. If he could help people, he had a duty to, end of story.

He felt himself falling asleep and decided it couldn’t hurt to nap for a few more hours. It had been so long since he had gotten any real, quality sleep, and he was hologram-free for the moment, so he let himself drift off once more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiny chapter, whoops. I promise the next two are much meatier! I realize that the first three or four chapters of the story are going to start with Peter waking up, lol, partly because it's the most natural breaking point, but also because I figure he's stuck in a windowless box and probably has major cabin fever. Aaaannnnyyywayyyy....

Peter was fighting, well, he was fighting _something,_ and it kept moving, twisting just out of reach. He couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, and attacks came from all sides. He ducked and weaved, trying to get out of the way but there was no clear path forward, no path that didn’t end in him getting hit. He tried to push on anyway, but hands tore at his suit, pulling on him.

He turned and was face to face with his attacker. He stared into his own brown eyes and saw nothing but a blank hardness there. A hand whipped out and he dodged. Another, and he was too slow this time. He fell, seeing himself standing there, ready to deliver the final blow. In slow motion, a hand fell, and he was –

* * *

Awake. He was awake. Peter’s head whipped around the darkened room, looking for his attacker. When he didn't see anyone, instead of calming down a shiver ran up his spine. Shooting out of the bed still shirtless, he backed towards one of the walls, hands out to prevent anyone or anything from sneaking up on him. “Who’s there? Where are you?” His breathing was loud in his ears, and he heard his voice with a sense of detached panic.

“There is nobody in the room with you, Peter. You are alone. Shall I start Mr. Stark’s program to talk you through the panic attack you are experiencing?” EDITH’s voice cut through the haze, and Peter got one hand on the wall, pressing his palm flat against it. Grounding himself with the surface helped, and he pressed his whole back and both hands against the wall, sliding down.

“What? EDITH? You can do that?” His eyes still darted around wildly, but he waited for the response from the AI.

“I can. It is currently 2:45 PM in the afternoon, August fifteenth. You are alone, there is nobody attacking you. The temperature outside is eighty-five degrees Fahrenheit, twenty-nine-point-four-four degrees Celsius. Please focus on your breathing. Take a deep breath and hold for three seconds. One, two, three. Slowly exhale, and then draw in another deep breath, holding for another three seconds. One, two, three.” The words washed over him and Peter tried to slow his breathing. After a while his heart rate came down, slowing steadily as he took one deep breath after another. EDITH continued talking while he calmed.

Once he was back to himself, he let his hands come off the wall hesitantly, and pushed himself back to a standing position. EDITH stopped her breathing instructions.

“Are you feeling better, Peter? Your breathing and heartrate have stabilized, and you are no longer experiencing signs of significant distress.” Peter shook his head, trying to clear the last of the sleep and panic from his mind.

“Yeah, yeah I’m better, thanks EDITH. How are you talking to me? I thought Beck said you couldn't talk to me.” He looked warily at the ceiling, trying to see where the tranquilizer darts would come from, if they were coming.

“Mr. Beck instructed I was to only listen to orders made with his voice but did not make any restrictions against me talking to you. I cannot obey any orders you give me and will be forced to sedate you if you give an order, attempt an escape, or hurt Mr. Beck.” She sounded truly apologetic, and Peter spared a thought for the AI that was designed to be Tony Stark’s final gift to him. Forced to hurt him, it hurt _him_ to cause her pain. Peter was supposed to be better than this, know what was right and who to trust with the glasses.

He thought over her words and realized something. “Hold on, wait a second. You can’t do anything I order you to do, but if I just had a question, could you answer it? Like if I wanted to know, uh, who the president is or something?”

“Yes, Peter, I have no current restrictions on answering your questions, as long as they do not relate to escape or hurting Mr. Beck. The current President is President Ellis, the 45th President of the United States.” Peter felt a flicker of hope, something he’d long since given up feeling again. This was big, something meaning he might get out big. He grinned.

“Thanks EDITH! You’re the best!” He punched the air and stifled a whoop in case the room wasn’t sound proofed.

“You’re pretty great yourself, Peter.” He heard the note of pride in her voice. He couldn’t help but think she was proud of him for figuring a way out of Beck’s instructions, that she didn’t like being under his thumb any more than Peter did. And Peter was ready to find a way out.

He spent the rest of the afternoon thinking and asking EDITH small questions. He asked about sports games, local events, and pop culture. He learned the NFL season started a week before, Pride week was scheduled for June, and Jake Gyllenhaal was still single but EDITH had surveillance recordings showing he was likely bi. Good to know.

At one point in the afternoon food arrived for Peter. EDITH regretfully instructed him to sit on the bed and not move until she told him he could. He did without complaint. He waited until she dropped what must have been a hologram to reveal a large foldable table, covered with fast food and snacks. Once EDITH let him up, he raced over and started eating, starving. He’d spent so much time in the hologram torture that he’d lost a lot of weight, and his strength took a big hit. The spider-metabolism was no joke, and he quickly ate his way through everything provided.

After he finished, he lay down on the bed again, rubbing his stomach. While he dozed, EDITH let him know Beck said if he wanted more food, he could ask for it if the man wasn’t there. Peter nodded his thanks but decided to take a nap first. Wary as he was of sleeping again after the nightmare, the food made him more willing to give it another try.

Without much fanfare, he pulled the blankets up around him and snuggled down into the cozy bed. He drifted off quickly, lost to dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist slipping in the line about Jake Gyllenhaal, it was too tempting. My thinking is that he exists in the MCU but looks just different enough that nobody would mistake them for the same person, but not different enough that he isn't totally Peter's celebrity crush. Ha!
> 
> I'm really excited to see what y'all have to say about the next chapter, that's when things definitely start getting, eh, more of a lot of things. 'til then!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seriously have no defense for this one. As it stands, I've realized that it's much harder to write actual plot than it is to write porn, so this is significantly longer than the other chapters lol. I'm pretty sure I was blushing the entire time I was writing this.
> 
> (In case you're wondering - yes I changed my username. I realized the old one could be connected with my real name, and while I'm very proud of this, I don't really want the people I know in real life to know I've devoted over 20k words (at this point) to torturing Peter Parker online.)

When Peter woke again, he came back to consciousness in slow waves, pulled up from the depths of sleep. Blinking, he looked down at the warm pillow beneath his head and tried to remember where he was. This wasn’t his bed at home, nor was it the torture he’d grown used to. As he stared down, he realized his nose pressed into a hairy stomach and not a pillow, and his arms wrapped around the same stomach and chest. His legs hopelessly tangled in the blankets with another pair of legs, he tried to make sense of the situation for long moments without much success.

“What- huh?” A snort came from above him, and he looked up to see Beck’s arms around him. The man leered down at him, sitting propped against the bedframe. One hand carded through his hair, the other rubbed circles over the pulse point at Peter’s wrist.

“You were asleep when I got back.” Peter blinked slowly, still not comprehending the jump to his current situation. “And you looked great, all sleepy, so I figured I’d join you. As soon as I sat down you wrapped yourself around me and refused to let go.” Peter felt himself blushing, embarrassed in sleep he’d demanded so much from the man. Although, come to think of it, he hadn’t had any nightmares this time.

He tried to pull away, lifting his arms from where they wrapped around Beck. Hands caught his wrists and stopped his movement, and although Peter could have broken the hold, he didn’t. Peter realized Beck was hard, his dick scant inches away from Peter’s face. Oh. Duh.

Peter pressed a kiss to Beck’s stomach, assuming the man wouldn’t object to another blowjob, but Beck tilted his head up before he could move lower.

“Nuh-uh, not yet.” Beck moved Peter up and untangled their legs; Peter watched the movements in mild confusion. Once both men were free, Beck repositioned himself so he sat upright, a pillow behind his back against the headboard. Peter knelt to his side, waiting to be told what to do. He knew something was coming, and he was very apprehensive as to what it was.

Beck straightened his legs out, creating a space on his lap where his dick tented the front of his briefs. Peter made to straddle him, but stopped once again at a firm look from Beck.

“You’re pretty eager, aren’t you Peter? I’d say you were almost too eager, maybe hoping to get it over with, hmm?” Peter shook his head no, wanting to protest, but instead a hand fisted in his hair, pulling sharply downward and causing him to cry out in surprise, if not pain. “How about you let me do what I want, yeah? Instead of trying to manipulate me like you did this morning, with the blowjob. See, you need to learn Peter, you’re _mine_. I _own_ you. I can do whatever I want to you, and nobody can stop me.” The hand in his hair pulled _hard_ and this time it hurt. Peter yelped a little, wincing and following the tug.

“Yes, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.” Beck grinned at him, seemingly pacified.

“Well, good. I’m glad you feel bad, you should. Now, EDITH told me you spent today napping and eating and lazing about in here, and you know, I expect more from you Peter, I really do.” Peter thought about protesting he hadn’t exactly had much else to do, but kept his mouth shut and looked down submissively. “Now, you were Tony Stark’s protégé, I expected more from you. I bet Tony did too.” Real tears welled up in Peter’s eyes at the mention of Tony, but he snapped his mouth shut and refused to meet the other man’s eyes.

“Now Peter, I think you deserve some punishment for acting out like you did, even if this morning _was_ just because you really wanted to get your mouth on my dick. You need to learn some manners, and you need to know _I’m always the one in control_. I decide what you get and how much you give me.” Peter did not like the sound of that _in the slightest,_ but schooled his face as neutral as he was able and nodded. 

“Yes, sir, of course. I should be punished.” He wasn't interested in any more of the hologram torture, but held his tongue, waiting for the other man to speak.

Beck used the grip on his hair to pull Peter’s face up so he looked the other man in the eyes. “I wasn’t sure what punishment you deserve, so I spent today thinking about it and I’ve come up with something to leave you with a reminder I’m in charge, and takes your healing into account.” Peter’s heart beat faster and he ran through a list of possibilities in his head, considering different ways he could be hurt. Beck wouldn’t permanently maim him, if only because he liked looking at Peter; he would be annoyed if his toy was less pretty. That still meant a lot of things that leave lasting marks. 

“Of course, sir, whatever you think is best.” Beck rolled his eyes.

“This isn’t a BDSM scene, don’t call me sir. And quit it with the submissive routine, you forget I know you. Don’t lie to me, Peter.” There was real fire in his voice now, as opposed to the affected annoyance from before. “I know you probably hate me, and you know what? I deserve it. But I’m still not letting you go, and you’re still being punished because I will not be led around by my dick, not by you.” Peter nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The man’s emotions changed so fast Peter nearly got whiplash.

“So what is the punishment, you ask? Excellent question, kiddo.” Peter bristled at the endearment. _Mr. Stark called him that. That was his._

Beck leaned forward and tugged sharply, throwing Peter off balance and causing him to fall forwards, catching himself on his hands. He lay over Beck’s lap, and heavy hands pushed on his shoulders and ass, forcing him down flush against the other man. The position meant he rubbed against Beck’s dick. Beck took a moment to grind into Peter’s stomach, panting at the friction. Soon he slowed, hands roaming over Peter’s back and lingering on his ass. As he felt the hands pinch at him it clicked with Peter what his ‘punishment’ was, and he let out a barely-there sigh of relief. It could have been a lot worse.

Beck picked something up from the bed beside him Peter hadn’t noticed. It was, well, Peter wasn’t sure what to call it, although he realized what it was for pretty much instantly. It had a handle with a sturdy grip and looked like a paintbrush, except instead of soft bristles there were thin wires sticking out of the end, seven or eight inches long. Okay, so it still could have been a lot worse, but this was more than just the open hand Peter expected.

Beck ran his free hand over Peter’s ass and pulled down the elastic waistband of his pants. Peter hadn’t been given underwear. He rolled his eyes to himself at that thought – considering how often he found himself not wearing pants he was lucky to have any clothes at all.

“Let’s see, so if I consider your healing, I want to do, hmm. How many do you think you need Peter?” Peter opened his mouth, thinking. Too low a number and he’d likely get more added on top as a punishment, but if he said a really high number he was stuck with that.

As he thought, a hand came down hard on the smooth skin of his ass. He wasn’t expecting it, and he yelped again out of surprise. “Stop thinking and give me an answer. How many?”

“Uh, forty. Forty, I guess.” The hand was back, rubbing slow circles into his ass. The hit hadn’t hurt, just stung a bit, and Peter relaxed, thinking maybe he could handle this. 

“Okay, you say forty is what you deserve. Let’s go sixty and see where you are, hmm?” Peter knew better than to groan aloud. He knew he’d get screwed no matter what number he gave Beck.

The silver whatever-it-was-called waved in front of his face. “That’s sixty with this, mind you. If this is too much, you can ask to switch to my hand but it’ll be three of those for every one with this. Got it?” Peter nodded, gulping. “And you have to keep count. That’s always a thing for some reason, isn’t it?” He didn’t wait for Peter’s answer and pulled the silver thing out of his sight. Peter tensed as he felt the man switch it to his other hand, anticipating the hit.

The first hit didn’t come immediately. Only once Peter realized he hadn’t been hit yet and turned to look at Beck did the man move, and the sting blossomed across his backside. The silver thing was much different than an open hand, it left a sharper bite against his skin and he jerked forward, trying to get away. Beck’s left hand pressed heavily against his back, keeping him firmly in place.

“Forgetting something?” Peter blinked, not understanding, then got it.

“Oh, uh, right. That was one?” The second hit came faster, and he twitched with his whole body, sharp pain lower this time, at the crease near his thighs. “T-two. That was two.”

Three, four, five and six came in quick succession after that, Peter didn’t have time to count them aloud before the next was already landing. After he got his breath back, he wheezed out the numbers in a row.

“Good job, Peter, you’re doing well.” Peter nodded, focusing his eyes on the bedcovers in front of him. 

Seven through twenty went as smooth as could be expected. Peter counted each with a single-minded determination his teachers swore he’d never have about anything. 

After he hit twenty, Beck paused and gave him a moment to compose himself. That was to say, he wasn't very composed at all, but he appreciated the break nonetheless. Setting down the silver thing, Beck ran hands over the planes of Peter’s back and ass, soothing hot skin where it ached. 

He picked up the silver thing again. “Ready?” Peter shook his head, needing another minute or two to find his head. Without warning, Beck’s hand swung down again, striking him three times in a row. “ _Yes_ , you are ready. I get to decide that, not you.” Peter felt tears coming to his eyes and found he was gasping for breath. He ground out the numbers of those three hits, and bowed his head, waiting for more.

More he got. He counted steadily, sinking into the information his body gave him. Tears ran steadily down his face, his breathing labored and uneven. His stomach pressed against Beck’s dick, which hadn’t flagged in the slightest – Peter thought he was harder now than when they started. Peter’s own body responded, much to his disgust, and he felt himself getting hard against Beck’s leg. He wanted to pull back, shift his hips so the man wouldn’t notice, but it was a useless effort.

With one hand still braced against his back, Beck’s other hand put down the flogger and pulled Peter’s hips up, pushing his ass more firmly in the air, with easier access to Peter’s dick. He grabbed, tugging roughly and Peter sobbed, pushing his face into the bedding and bucking into Beck’s hand. Just as suddenly as he grabbed at Peter, the hand was gone, and Peter keened, spreading his legs slightly as he tried to get more.

“Not yet, but close. What number were you on, Peter?” Instead of breaking down fully like he wanted to, Peter forced himself to speak.

“Th- thirty-four. Please, _please,_ can I have- I need more-“ He shivered at the low chuckle from the man above him.

“Oh, don’t worry, you’ll get more all right.” The hits kept coming, and Peter lost track of everything but his skin burning and his hips rutting against Beck’s leg and needing less of one and more of the other. 

At forty-five, he couldn’t take any more and begged the man to switch to his hand. It would be more hits, but it wasn’t the sharp stinging bite of metal against his tender backside. The next “five” (really 15 hits) were almost a relief, the hard thud and then soothing feeling of Beck’s hand rubbing against his skin as the man couldn’t help but knead his ass with every smack. After counting those, Peter asked to switch back to the silver thing for the last ten.

“Ten more, Peter, you can do this. God, your ass is already bruising, it's all purple. It looks great.” He punctuated the statement with a jiggle, bouncing his hand on Peter’s ass just to watch it move. Peter was nearly beyond words altogether and did something between a moan and a wail.

“I can’t- I can’t. No more, please.” He was achingly hard, despite his best efforts to convince himself he didn't enjoy this, and Beck reached under Peter’s hips to palm him once again. Peter keened. “I can’t, anything- please. I’ll do anything you want, no more.”

“Come on Peter, it’s just ten. You can do it, I know you can. You know why?” Peter shook his head. “Because I’m telling you to. You will take these last ten, and then you’ll ride me with your bruised, sore ass and _love it_.”

His arm swung and Peter cried out and counted dutifully. And again. At fifty-five, the world narrowed to the stitching of the blanket in front of him and the feeling of his ass. At fifty-seven, he couldn’t speak any more; Beck took pity on him and counted the last three hits. Fifty-eight, fifty-nine. Sixty.

It was over, but Peter wasn’t sure he was even still awake. He rose into the next plane of existence, caught between floating in the clouds and clutching the bedcovers so hard he’d ripped several holes in them. 

He slowly became aware of hands running over his back and his ass, soothing murmurs coming from above him as he sobbed and writhed and tried to come back to himself.

Somehow, through all of that, he was still hard. The hands on his back hadn’t let up, and he became more and more aware of the answering hardness underneath him, the promise he’d finally get relief once he finished counting. He was done counting.

With every bit of control he had left, Peter levered himself up onto his elbows. He panted like he’d run a marathon.

“Peter, hey Peter. You look a little rough there, buddy. I don’t know if you’re up for moving just yet-“ Beck caught him as he listed to one side, but Peter didn't let that deter him. He steadied himself on his hands and knees and turned to face Beck.

“I need, I- I _need_.” Beck nodded, understanding what Peter needed. Hands steadied him, holding him in place.

“Hey, Peter. Hey. Look at me.” He looked up, making eye contact with the man. Beck actually looked, well, not scared exactly, maybe concerned? He didn’t want Peter moving yet. Peter knew he needed _more_ and he wouldn’t let Beck stop him from getting it. Not this time, anyway. “Okay, okay Peter. Yes, fine, we can- but just let me- ugh. Hold still for two seconds, and I promise you’ll get what you want.”

Peter let the Beck manhandle him, pushing him back down, bracing him on his forearms, legs spread. “I know I said you’d ride me, but your motor control isn’t great right now, so I'll save that for another time.” Peter whined in protest, raising his head, but Beck shushed him. “I didn’t say I’m not gonna fuck you, you just won’t be riding me.” Peter quieted, letting the man grab supplies from somewhere. Beck was soon positioned between Peter’s spread legs, opening the lube. Peter was panting and needy and he felt like he was dying.

The first brush of fingers against him was cool, slick with lube, and he gasped. “More, it’s- fuck, it feels good, touch me more. I need-“ the fingers probed at his entrance and he nodded his agreement vigorously. At the feeling of one thick finger sliding into him he howled, fingers scrambling at the sheets. “Come on, come on comeoncomeoncome-“ He talked while Beck fingered him open sloppily. The cool drip of lube felt nice on his skin and he relished the texture of Beck’s fingers working inside him.

Peter drifted as Beck prepared him, focused on the feeling of the lube on his heated skin. Beck didn't make any effort to keep it from going everywhere, and the slick-smooth substance dripped steadily down his backside. Once Beck decided Peter was ready enough, he removed his fingers and Peter keened, arching his back and spreading his legs wider. A groan from behind him let him know the other man was just as affected by this as he was, and hands settled on his hips, pulling him backwards.

Instead of burying himself to the hilt like Peter expected, Beck pushed into him slowly, every inch pressing further against Peter’s sanity. He panted and tried to get the man to move faster but the iron grip on his hips controlled the pace fully. Once Beck was finally, _finally_ seated fully inside him, Peter gasped and tried to push or pull or move to get some kind of friction, because Beck was deeper than he’d ever been, the new angle makings sparks burst behind Peters closed eyelids.

After a few eternities or probably only seconds, Beck _finally_ moved, and Peter cried out. Each slow withdraw followed by a sharp thrust, burying him deeper and deeper each time. The feeling of Beck’s hips hitting the bruises on Peter’s ass hurt, but in a way that pushed him higher into the atmosphere as he writhed, whining deep in his throat and trying to get more. Beck was no less frenzied, picking up his pace and fucking harder into Peter with every thrust.

Just when Peter thought he couldn't take any more, Beck took one hand off Peter’s hip and reached around him, grasping Peter’s dick. That touch alone set him off and Peter came, fingers tight where they gripped the sheets and his whole body tensed up. 

He vaguely realized Beck came as well, his hands bit hard into Peter’s hips and around the edges of the large bruise that was his ass. Peter spared half a thought to the fact Beck apparently forwent a condom this time as he felt the warm wetness inside of him, but he was too far gone to be concerned about anything other than passing out very soon.

Beck manhandled him so he lay on his stomach, an arm slung across his back with Peter’s face nuzzled into an armpit. Beck breathed even and calm, and he’d cleaned them both up a little. Without thinking too much on the whys, Peter let himself fall asleep, worn out and cradled in the arms of his enemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked! Many many thanks for the comments I got earlier, which were *very* inspirational. :P


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

The next time Peter woke he was unsure what roused him from sleep. Bleary and only partly awake, he reached out an arm towards the body next to him. Where there had been a body next to him, anyway. His hand flopped down on empty sheets, and he let out a confused whuffle, still not awake enough to realize what he was doing.

The feeling of something unexpectedly wet moving against his skin made Peter jump. Hands pressed hot against the backs of his thighs and he stilled, calmed by the touch. When the wet thing touched him again, he squirmed and woke up a little more, twisting as he realized he lay on his stomach. He had a good idea of whose hands were on him, but instead of getting agitated he calmed down, relaxing under the touch.

When the wet thing ran a long stripe up his still sore and hurting ass, he shook off the last of the sleep clouding his mind and turned his head, looking behind him to see Beck kneeling over his legs, head lowered as he licked along the curve of Peter’s backside. He could tell from sight it was bruised, and he’d have trouble sitting down for at least a day even with his superior healing. _Ouch._

Peter made a noise. He tried to clear his throat to ask what the man wanted, but Beck shot him a heady look and he lost his train of thought.

“Shh, Peter, just let me take care of you, okay? I hurt you pretty bad, and while I needed to do it so you’d learn your lesson, it still hurt me to hurt you. I’m going to make it feel better though, okay?” Peter nodded, settling back into the bed and laying his head back down on his folded arms. He trusted the man with this, for better or for worse. If he wanted to hurt Peter, there were easier ways he could accomplish that, and it wasn’t worth fighting over.

Beck licked him gently, running his tongue over Peter’s ass and soothing the hot, swollen skin. It did feel nice, and Peter slowly let go of the tension he held. At the feeling of Beck’s thumbs digging in and spreading him open, however, he flinched, instinctively pulling away to get out of view of the other man. Beck held him firmly in place. He wriggled his toes at the feeling of being _looked_ at and tried to stop the blush spreading across his face.

“No, shh babe, come on. You’re beautiful, even your tight little hole. Come on, let me see you.” Peter took a breath, and then another. He stopped trying to squirm away and hated the way the endearment caused his heart to stutter. Even with everything, Beck was still so drawn to him. “Yeah, that’s it. Come on, I promise you’ll like this.” Peter didn’t know what ‘this’ was, but at the first touch of tongue to his entrance, he jerked. He was no longer trying to get away, however, he needed more of that feeling. Beck chuckled, and obliged.

With long powerful licks, he opened Peter up and Peter felt himself melting, turning to a gooey pile of mush as the fire raced up and down his spine. He moaned at the feeling, and tried to push back against Beck’s tongue, to get more. After a minute, Peter realized Beck was licking his own come out of Peter, and he felt his blush come back at that thought. Once Beck had licked into him as far as he could, he added his fingers, pressing deeper into Peter and twisting, pushing against him while his tongue still probed, looking for any last traces of his essence.

Peter began to rut his hips against the mattress, torn between pushing back against the tongue at his entrance and trying to get some friction on his aching dick. What Beck was doing felt amazing, but he was quickly starting to need more than just his tongue and fingers.

As if hearing Peter’s thoughts, Beck sat up, grabbing lube from next to him (Peter spared half a thought to where the man kept pulling sex supplies from, since he hadn’t seen any when he was alone in the room the previous day) and slicking himself up. _No condom, again_.

Peter knew he wouldn’t be able to talk the man into one, so he didn’t try. Instead he just widened his legs, spreading his knees as far as they would go (which was pretty far, thanks to the superpowers). Beck, in a show of strength Peter wasn’t expecting, knelt behind him and lifted, hauling Peter a few inches into the air by his hips. He pulled him down, impaling him on his dick, and Peter screamed, hands scrambling to brace himself on the bed.

With what could only be described as superhuman stamina, Beck held Peter up as he fucked into him, arms straining as he pulled and pushed the younger man however he wanted him. His hips met Peter’s with every stroke, and it was all Peter could do to hold on as he was used ruthlessly.

Peter came first, unassisted this time. He cried out as he came, bucking into the air underneath him. Beck held on a little longer, fucking him at a brutal pace and not stopping or slowing down as Peter rode out his aftershocks. Right as it was turning from pleasure to overstimulation to the edge of pain, he pulled Peter’s hips down one last time and roared, emptying himself inside Peter.

Instead of pulling out right away, the older man simply dropped Peter, collapsing with him onto the bed as one. Peter stirred weakly but made no real move to try to get out from under the mostly dead wright on top of him. It was actually kind of comforting, being pressed down so soundly, and wasn’t that a surprise? Peter still got nightmares about being crushed under that building, and he didn’t really like being in small spaces at all. But this was different, it was a warm weight running along his back, and the fact that Beck was still inside him grounded him.

After long minutes spent catching their breath, Beck stirred and leaned back a little, soft now inside Peter. With one quick movement, he pulled out and Peter winced at the feeling, both at the slide of wet come but also the feeling of emptiness. He’d fallen asleep right after the last few times they had sex and hadn’t noticed it as much then.

Before he could say anything, however, Beck leaned over and grabbed something from the side of the bed. It was that stupid plug, the one with the Spiderman design. Peter gave the man a look, but he was ignored in favor of Beck sliding the plug firmly inside him. It was smaller than Beck was, but it helped with the emptiness he felt and he relaxed as Beck strolled his hands over the still sensitive skin of Peter’s ass.

“God, you look. You’re _mine_. Your ass all cherry red and you’re plugged up with my come inside you. I own every bit of you, inside and out.” Peter shivered but didn’t deny the statement. He knew if he didn’t figure a way out, he’d be stuck as Beck’s kept boy for a very long time. “I’ve got things to do today, but I want you to wear that until I take it out of you again, okay? I want you to remember who owns you.” He punctuated the statement with a light slap to Peter’s poor abused ass, and Peter jerked like he’d been electrocuted.

He tried to hate the idea, he really did, but some perverse twisted part of him loved the idea of being owned, of never having to worry about anything other than how Beck was going to fuck him next. But that part of him was small, and the larger part that screamed about his loved ones and saving people had logic on its side. He shifted on the bed, wincing as the movement made the plug shift inside him. It wasn’t bad, but it was odd and it made him wary of whatever Beck would do next.

“Okay, I won’t take it out until you do.” Beck nodded, satisfied.

“EDITH, alert me if Peter tries to take it out, or if he touches himself at all while I’m gone.” He shot a glance at Peter. “No touching yourself, either. If you come without touching yourself, that’s alright, but hands above the table at all times.”

“Yes, Mr. Beck, I will alert you if Peter attempts to remove the plug or if he masturbates.” EDITH’s voice sounded odd saying the word ‘masturbate’. Peter gave a nod to show he understood as well.

With that, Beck got up and pulled on the clothes he’d discarded on the floor. “Alright Peter, I’ll be back before too much time has passed. You just sit pretty and try not to think about me fucking you through the mattress when I get back.” He gave Peter a salacious grin, and a jaunty wave.

Peter scrambled to his knees on the bed, wincing as the plug moved inside him. “Wait, wait. I uh, I wanted to ask you something.” Beck gestured to him to continue. “I was wondering, uh, since I’m gonna be stuck here for a while, if I could have some paper and maybe some markers or something? I was pretty bored yesterday, having something to do with my hands would help.” He looked down at himself ruefully, his cock was already starting to react to the plug inside him. “Especially if I can’t use them to do anything else.” Peter gazed hopefully at the other man, trying to look as innocent as he could with his ass full of the other man’s come.

Beck considered it, looking Peter up and down. “I guess you can, if it helps you stick to your promise. EDITH, can you have some markers and paper brought for Peter when he gets food?” Peter tried not to show the overwhelming relief on his face and smiled happily at Beck.

“Thanks so much, I promise I’ll thank you properly when you get back.” He licked his lips, aiming for sultry but probably missing by a mile. Beck’s eyes darkened anyway.

“I have half a mind to blow off my meetings to get your appreciation right now, but unlike you, I can control my baser impulses.” Peter watched him stalk to the door, pull it open, and disappear into the blackness beyond it. He fell back onto the bed after the man had gone, remembering the plug in him only after he landed on his sore ass and knocked the wind out of his lungs.

With that, it was just a matter of waiting and trying to figure out if his plan would work. He thought he had EDITH on his side, and that she’d work every loophole to help him get out, but he wasn’t positive. If she saw what he was trying as an escape attempt and alerted Beck, Peter was in for tranquilizers and whatever Beck decided he deserved as a punishment. He really hoped this worked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, I've been having a lot of fun with this one! I mentioned in a comment but figured it bears repeating - I totally slipped and accidentally got plot in my porn, so this is gonna end up being wayyyyy longer than I originally expected. With actual plot, and feelings and things. Not to say there won't be more bangin' (there will!) but it might be a bit longer between, with actual things happening lol. 
> 
> P.S. Did anyone spot the loophole in Beck's instructions before I pointed it out?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was painting all day and spent most of the day going "ugh I'm not gonna get home to post the next chapter until way late" and its earlier than I was expecting but I'm gross and sweaty and tired and I wanted to do this before showering because I'm a whore for kudos and comments lol. 
> 
> In other (still very not chapter-related) news, I saw the biggest spider ever inside my new house. I was too scared to get near him or even try to kill him (we don't have a broom there yet) and so I just kept an eye on him, named him Quentin (because he was large and hairy and died way later than he should have) and made my boyfriend come straight from work to kill him. I'm dedicating this chapter to the very dead spider, Quentin.

Peter spent the next however long alternating between laying on his stomach on the bed and pacing, although he could only pace a few laps before the plug in his ass was too much for him to handle. So, he mostly lay on the bed thinking through his plan and praying to every god he could think of that it worked.

EDITH finally alerted him he’d get food soon, telling him to stay on the bed until it was ready. He nearly vibrated out of his skin while he waited. After what felt like a million years -but was probably only five or ten minutes- she said he could get off the bed and he raced over to the table that appeared once she dropped the hologram.

Laid out was a lot of food, mostly junk food like he’d had the day before, but he ignored it in favor of the sketchpad and set of art markers off to one side. Grabbing them, he took them back to the bed, laying down on his stomach again. Might as well be comfy, and there was no way he’d be able to sit in a chair. The bruising on his ass was already fading, but he’d be sore for a while longer to say nothing of the plug.

“Hey EDITH, can I ask you a question?” He worried his bottom lip between his teeth. This was it, make or break time.

“Sure Peter, what did you want to know?”

“Wh- when was Quentin going to be back?” She paused, likely checking his schedule for the day.

“He should return in approximately four hours, depending on how long his meetings take.” Peter gave a small smile – score one.

“Okay, thank you. Can I ask a second question?”

“Of course Peter, I can answer as many questions as you like.” He took a breath, thinking over the best way to word it.

“Okay, so, I know Mr. Beck said you couldn’t listen to any orders that weren’t from his voice, but I was thinking, well. If I wrote down an order, just for you to turn the lights down so I could sleep, could you obey that?” He held his breath, hoping against hope his careful phrasing and misdirection would land him what he needed.

EDITH took longer to respond this time. “Yes, Peter, I suppose that works. If you write it down, I can adjust the lights for you.” There was a roaring in Peter’s ears and he flipped open the sketchbook as fast as his hands would let him.

Pulling a sheet over the notebook so her cameras wouldn’t see until he was finished, he started scribbling. After a minute or two he was satisfied with the wording and held up the board for the cameras.

REMOVE ALL AUTHORIZATIONS FROM QUENTIN BECK AND TRANSFER THEM BACK TO ME. ANYTHING YOU ARE DOING ON HIS ORDERS, STOP IMMEDIATELY. LET ME LEAVE WITHOUT ALERTING HIM, AND DELAY HIM IF HE TRIES TO FOLLOW ME.

“Understood. Quentin Beck has been removed from the list of authorized users. Control of all functions is transferred back to Peter Parker.” She paused, and then added “Congratulations Peter, I really hoped you would figure a way out. I can instruct you how to get out of the building if you so desire.”

He shot up, whooping. “Yes! Yes, EDITH, _please_ I would love it if you showed me how to get out of the building!” He looked down at himself, still in his underwear and covered in dried sweat and come. “Maybe I should get some clothes first, though.”

“Certainly, Peter. If you walk into the hallway, I will direct you to clothes and then the exit.” Peter made to leave and paused as he felt the plug still inside of him. He could take it out, now that EDITH wouldn’t be reporting anything he did back to Beck. Peter hesitated, however, the tiny hindbrain part of his mind whispering that he would be in so much trouble if he did, and that he wanted to be good for Beck.

He shook his head but realized he didn’t have all that much time to debate himself. Thinking, he finally settled on leaving it where it was for the moment since he’d probably be more uncomfortable walking around with that awful open feeling and come dripping out of him.

He opened the door, and instead of blank nothingness he’d come to expect, he saw a normal looking hallway. There was nobody there.

“EDITH, where are we, anyway?” A path lit up on the floor and he followed it down the hallway and around a corner. Ten feet down that hallway led him to a small supply closet. He opened the door to find hospital scrubs, and pulled them on gratefully.

“We are in New York City, Peter. Avengers Tower to be exact. Mr. Stark previously planned to sell the tower, but he decided to hold onto it indefinitely after the events that unfolded with the Vulture. Mr. Beck had me reactivate most of the security systems as I’m interfaced with the Tower already.” Peter spluttered, even as he finished tugging on the scrubs.

“Avengers tower? What- he- oh that dick! I can’t believe he was keeping me prisoner, **here** , and nobody found me.” He straightened quickly. “EDITH, what about my aunt? Ned and MJ? I saw him kill them, did he- are they-“ he couldn’t get the words out, but EDITH figured out what he meant.

“They are all safe, Peter. They were led to believe you died in London, but Mr. Beck did not kill them. He expressed a belief that killing them would draw too much attention to him and his activities, as he still wishes to be seen as a hero.” Peter’s breathing was unsteady, and he gripped the handle of the closet tightly, trying to regain control.

_Focus. Get out and get somewhere safe now, break down later. Preferably never._

With three deep breaths, he steeled himself and strode back down the hallway, following the lights EDITH used to guide his way. He passed a window and saw he was high up the tower, meaning he had a way to go. “EDITH, was the room he kept me in really made of vibranium?”

“It was not Peter, but I was under orders not to divulge that to you. Mr. Beck had me project holograms onto the walls to make them appear to be made of vibramium, despite their being made of a titanium-gold alloy. If it helps, I ran calculations on your strength and your powers and there was a 98.5% likelihood your powers wouldn’t have allowed you to break the walls of the room, if you knew.”

“It doesn’t really but thank you for letting me know. And could you stop calling him that? It creeps me out.”

“Sure, Peter. What would you like me to refer to him as instead?” He thought for a minute, weighing his options.

“Hmm, let’s just go with ‘asshole’ for right now, although I’m sure I’ll find some better names for him later.” He turned another corner and found himself face to face with the elevators. “Hey, how come I haven’t seen anyone here? I thought he had people that worked for him?” One of the elevators ‘ding’ed open, but he didn’t step inside yet.

“He does, but I have been diverting the personnel away from you. I can dismiss them all and expel them from the building, but they would likely alert the asshole.” Peter was caught between a laugh at the prim AI calling Beck an asshole and a shiver at the thought of him returning early and putting Peter back in some hologram hell for the rest of his likely very short life.

“That’s a good idea, EDITH, thank you. After I get out of the building, you can kick them all out, and block their phones from making any calls alerting him to what’s happening. I would love to put as much space between me and him before he figures out I’m gone.” At that, Peter reached out, touching the still open doors of the elevator.

He was about to step on when a thought occurred to him. “How do I know this isn’t just another elaborate hologram?”

“What’s that, Peter?” He drew his hand back, trying to focus through his swimming vision.

“How do I know he’s not watching every move I make and just waiting to punish me for trying to escape?” His words came faster as he talked, mind spinning out further. “What is this is some kind of test? There’s no way he’d be dumb enough to slip up on a loophole that big, right?”

He was hyperventilating, he realized, but he couldn’t do anything about it. Peter reached out blindly and found the wall, leaning on it and sliding down as he tried to focus. Everything was blurry and he couldn’t think straight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This stupid story may be the only thing going right in my life right now, so thanks again everyone that's commented and stuff, it means a lot. You're all appreciated a lot <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I left everyone on a cliffhanger! Aaahhh I don't want to cause any more anxiety, hopefully this chapter (sort of) makes up for it!

“Peter. Peter!” His head jerked up, looking around wildly. He sat next to the open elevator. “Peter, I was calling your name for two minutes, you were hyperventilating.” Oh yeah, EDITH was talking to him. “This is not a trick, you are not in a hologram anymore.” His hands were shaking, really his whole body was shaking, and he couldn’t stop it. He wasn’t cold per se, but the shivers wracked his small frame.

“Peter, listen to my voice. You are standing in Stark Tower. It is twelve thirty-four in the afternoon. The date is August seventeenth. This is not a trick, or a hologram.” He shifted, not believing her, and felt the movement of the plug inside him.

_He left that, because he expected to be back soon. He wouldn’t let me escape for this long - even in a hologram, he’d want to punish me by now._ Oddly, the thought of Beck’s short temper and random mood swings helped Peter calm down, if only because the man would be foaming at the mouth by now if he was aware Peter was trying to escape. He wouldn’t let it play out just to give Peter more rope to hang himself with. Beck was a lot of things, but everything Peter knew about the man pointed to him being unable to hold a deception for this long, not when punishing Peter was the alternative.

“Okay, okay.” He shook his head, trying to clear it. “If this is real, which I’m willing to go with, where is this elevator going to take me? I still don’t have shoes, and I don’t want to walk out into the lobby of Stark tower.” He hauled himself up off the floor anyway, stepping into the elevator. The doors slid closed behind him as EDITH answered.

“You are going to the service exit, I have a car waiting to pick you up. The driver was instructed to wait there, not pay attention to anyone getting in or out of the car, and to leave a pair of flip-flops in the back.” Peter let out a breath. That sounded perfect, really, and he’d be able to get to Aunt May much quicker than trying to take the subway.

“Alright, thanks EDITH. How can I talk to you once I’m out of the building? Can you get me a phone? I’d like to call Aunt May, and I should probably let Fury know I’m alive.” He thought for a second. “And that Beck’s not a good guy, who knows what he’s told Fury about me.” The elevator doors slid open, revealing a somewhat generic looking basement level. Peter glanced around but didn’t see anyone immediately waiting. He walked out of the elevator towards a set of stairs once he was sure nobody was looking his direction.

“Asshole is in possession of the glasses Tony left to you still, but he will soon realize they are nothing more than glasses to him now. If you get them back from him, you could use them as a phone and also interact with me.” Peter shook his head, dismissing the idea immediately.

“No!” He winced at the loudness of his voice. “No, I can’t see him, I can’t even think about him right now.” He took a deep breath, trying to keep his heartrate even. “I want those glasses back eventually, but I need something else for right now.” The top of the stairs led to what looked like a loading dock for any kind of large building, and there was a guard station to one side of where Peter stood. Nobody was in the guard station at the moment.

“Alright Peter. If you walk over to the guard booth, there is a cell phone on the desk that belongs to Beck’s guard. I should be able to patch you through to your aunt. You can let her know you’re alive, and that you’re coming to pick her up. The guard will know the phone is missing fairly soon and can track it, but I can courier another pair of glasses to your address by the time you get there.” Peter slipped inside the guard station and found the phone. It also had a Bluetooth jack and an earpiece that hooked around his head, and Peter pulled that part out, leaving the crusty and earwax-y earpiece on the desk. He looked at the phone and it asked for a passcode. Before he could even try to put one in, the screen unlocked, and showed an incoming call from EDITH. He held it up to his ear. 

“Okay Peter, I am connected through the wireless network, and can keep the phone unlocked as long as you need. The service will not be ideal, but you can talk to your aunt and let her know you’re on your way.” He nodded and pocketed the phone, hurrying away from the guard station and down the stairs towards the idling car. 

“Great, thanks EDITH.” He gave one last glance towards the speakers and cameras he knew were watching down on him. “Connect me to my aunt once I’m in the car. And thanks.” Hopping down the steps, Peter opened the back door and swung himself inside, pulling it shut behind him. The flip-flops were on the seat, with the tags from one of those overpriced I <3 NYC booths still attached. He tugged them on. _At least they’re black, and not neon green or light up or something._ He giggled a little hysterically.

He pulled the phone out of his pocket and stared at the screen. It didn’t show the password attempts anymore, and he held it up to his ear once more with only a glance at the rolled-up partition separating him from the driver. EDITH dialed for him, and Peter heard the ringtone in his ear as the car pulled out of the loading dock. It rang three times before being picked up.

“Parker residence, this is May.” It was really her. It sounded like her voice, anyway, but like she’d aged twenty years since the last time they spoke. He felt his breathing go all weird again and steadied himself against the car seat. Even as he tried to get himself under control, he heard EDITH’s voice in the vacuum created by his silence. 

“Hello Ms. Parker, this is EDITH, an AI designed by Tony Stark. I was gifted to your nephew, Peter Parker, upon Mr. Stark’s death.” May’s sharp inhale was audible, but EDITH kept speaking. “I must inform you your nephew Peter is alive and was held hostage for the last few weeks, instead of deceased as you were led to believe.” May was deathly silent, and Peter wondered if she’d hung up.

“Is this a joke?” Her voice was harsh, and he ached hearing her like that. He moved his mouth, trying to force the words out.

“Not a joke, no, Ms. Parker. Peter is alive, and he will be arriving at your shared apartment soon. You should also expect a courier to arrive with a package for him shortly.”

Peter finally figured out how to breathe again and tried to interject. “M- May? Are you there? Can you hear me?” His voice sounded high pitched even to him, and it broke in the middle of her name. But she heard him, and now she was- sobbing? He wasn’t sure, he’d never heard her sound like that, not even when Ben died.

“Oh Peter, oh my god, I- how are you- what happened to you? They told me you were dead! That you were trying to stop whatever it was in London, that thing Mysterio fought, and you died.” Peter flinched at the name, his heartrate spiking back into dangerous territory.

“May, whatever you do, don’t trust Mysterio. He’s a bad guy. He’s the one that captured me, and- and he tricked everyone into thinking he was a hero. He tricked me.” He couldn’t tell her about the rest of it, not yet. Maybe not ever.

“He’s not a hero? But he defeated that huge thing, in London. They showed it on the news for a week, it was all over.” Peter ran his hands through his hair, trying to decide how much to tell her. He still wasn’t sure anything he said wasn’t somehow being reported back to Beck, even now. He didn’t want to give the man more ammunition.

“I- look, Aunt May. He’s not a good guy, and he’s not a hero. Please let me get back and we can talk somewhere safe. He probably knows where we live, and he’s going to come after me when he realizes I escaped.” He winced. “Actually, he probably knows about Ned and MJ too, I need to talk to them as well. None of us are safe, especially now that you know I’m alive. I think I need to talk to Fury and SHIELD.” His mind was racing as he talked, already trying to predict what his next steps had to be. “EDITH, can you contact Fury for me? I don’t want to talk with him over the phone, but can you pass him a message? I need to talk to him in person. I’m not sure what Mysterio told him, but it can’t be good, especially if he’s being hailed as a hero.” It was hard not to choke on the name, but Peter managed to get it out.

“Yes Peter, I will contact Director Fury for you. I can have a safe house of Tony’s readied for you and your friends, if you like.” Peter nodded, then realized EDITH probably couldn’t see him. 

“Uh yeah, great thanks. Is this a safe house that SHIELD is aware of?” The buildings out the window were familiar, and Peter let his eyes drift over them as he realized the route was the same one Happy used to drive him home.

“No, it was held by Tony through several layers of shell companies, nobody is aware of the property other than Miss Potts and Happy Hogan.” That was good. Not ideal, but better than a safe house everyone and their mother knew about.

“Yeah, okay. Thanks EDITH.” Peter shook himself, trying to get back on track. “May, are you still there?”

“I’m here, Peter. Are you sure you’re okay?” Her voice had taken on the iron quality he had heard very few times before, usually when someone was making his life hell, and he loved her a little more for it.

“I’ll be okay, May. I just want to get you and Ned and MJ safe, and then we can figure everything else out from there. Can you be ready to go when I get there? Maybe pack some clothes for me too?” He would kill to get into some of his own clothes.

“I can do that. Do you know how long I should pack for?” He shook his head.

“I’m not sure yet. Uh, how about you just try to pack for a while, but keep it light? Within reason, but as much as we could carry between us.” She sighed.

“Okay, Peter. I can do that. I’ll see you soon.” She disconnected the call, and Peter slumped back against the seat. Talking with May had been great, but exhausting at the same time, to pretend he was alright. He was glad she was okay though, and he’d get to see her soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, he really did escape (at least, he's fairly sure he did, at this point). I know it was a total copout to leave that big of a loophole but in my defense, I actually didn't notice that when I wrote it originally and it was only when I was going back and editing that I realized there was such a big hole in Beck's instructions. Plus, he was extra stupid from bangin' Peter, and I'm sure that would cause anyone's brains to leak out their ears a bit. Lol.


	7. Chapter 7

“Peter? Should I contact MJ and Ned to let them know to expect you?” EDITH sounded unusually hesitant, and Peter winced. He really didn’t want his friends to have to deal with the aftermath of his capture, but they were in danger where they were.

“Yeah, I should pick them up. Do you know where they live? I think Ned is kind of close to my place, but MJ might be a bit out of the way.” He looked out the window again, and realized they were getting close to his place. “Actually, I should probably talk to them in person, huh? I guess I told them about the hologram thing, they would probably think it was a trap or something if I had you call them.” He rubbed at his eyes, groaning.

“Okay Peter, I will not contact them yet. I’m monitoring them now and will alert you if anything about their situation changes before your arrival. Currently, they are together at Ned’s apartment, so picking them up on the way to the safe house will not be an issue.” He nodded, acknowledging the info but not opening his eyes.

“Great, thanks.” The car slowed to a stop and he looked out the window to see his apartment. It looked familiar and very distorted at the same time. He wasn’t the same Peter Parker that had left weeks ago, but nothing else about the world had changed. Still the same bricks, plants outside. Nothing to mark his absence.

As he opened the car door, he heard the apartment door fly open, and May was rushing down the stairs. He was wrapped in her arms before he had a chance to protest, and he breathed deeply, inhaling the smell of her deodorant and perfume. She smelled like home, and like safety. He would have lived in her arms for the rest of her life, if he could have.

Pushing at her, Peter took a step back. “Hi May, it’s good to see you too, but we’re not safe here. We’ve got to go. Have you got stuff packed up?” May darted a look from one end of the nearly empty street to the other, confused, but didn’t question him.

“Yes, it’s waiting inside the door. Are you really okay? You’ve lost weight, honey.” He shook his head, batting her hands away as they poked at him and checked for injuries. He did _not_ want her figuring out he was still sore, and especially _where_ he was sore.

“I’m fine. I’m going to run up and change, and then we can go. Can you put the bags in the car? And did you get the package that came for me?” She nodded, still choked up. He didn’t wait further, and took the steps two at a time, entering the small apartment quickly.

The package containing the glasses sat on the table by the front door, unopened. He grabbed it and ripped into it, pulling the tape off even as he walked further into the apartment. His eyes darted around the rooms, finding and discarding changes to the home since he’d last been there. New magazines, a chair placed in a different corner. Nothing major had been changed.

His room was still exactly the same, except for the clear path May made when she grabbed his clothes. Peter swung the door shut and moved towards the dressers. He pulled out a shirt and jeans without looking at them and paused at his own reflection in the mirror over the door.

He looked different, had it really only been a few weeks? His body was leaner, having lost almost all the baby fat he had left plus what looked like a bit of muscle as well. He decided to eat more, he didn’t want to be reminded of Beck every time he looked in the mirror.

As he tugged off the scrubs he’d been wearing, Peter paused when he realized he was still wearing the stupid plug. He’d been in such a rush to get out of the tower that he’d nearly forgotten about it, but now -standing still for the first time in _forever-_ he was unsure.

_Obviously you should take it out and throw it away. That asshole raped you Peter. He sexually assaulted you!_

He knew arguing with a voice inside your own head was step one of crazy. The voice that sounded suspiciously like Tony Stark made a valid point, and yet Peter felt himself hesitant to remove the plug. With a tightening of his muscles, he felt the curve of it inside him, and a sense of simultaneous calm and sparks went up his spine. Yes, it reminded him of the man who had hurt him, but it also kept him grounded and reminded him this was real. He was here.

That in mind, Peter tugged on the jeans without removing the plug. _Beck couldn’t use it to humiliate me if I make the decision myself._

He finished tugging on the rest of his clothes and pulled the glasses out of the box. The pair EDITH sent were less gaudy and looked more like regular glasses instead of sunglasses. When he put them on, he heard EDITH’s voice in his ear.

“Hello, Peter. I’m glad you were able to get the glasses, and to see your Aunt. She is finished putting your bags in the car and will likely come to check on you in two-point-six minutes if you do not come out of your room before then.” He sighed.

“It’s good to have you back for real, EDITH. Let’s go.” He exited the room, and walked back to the front door. May waited there, keys in hand. “I’m ready, thanks for moving the bags. We’ve got to pick up MJ and Ned. EDITH, can you let the driver know?” A green light blinked in the corner of his vision, letting him know she’d given the new route to the driver. “Thanks.”

He got into the back of the car and May followed. She still looked kind of bewildered, and he put his hand on top of her leg.

“I know, believe me, _I know_. But we’ll be okay, we’ve always been okay before.” She nodded. “And I’m sorry, you know. For not figuring out a way to get back sooner. Sorry that you-“ _thought I was dead when really I was getting fucked so hard I couldn’t see straight._ He didn’t finish the sentence, letting it hang in the air instead. 

May took his wrist and pulled him into another hug, a little awkward because of the angle. “You don’t ever have to be sorry, it’s not your fault. You did the best you could, and you escaped, Peter. That’s all anyone could have asked for.” He stifled a grimace into her shoulder, thinking of all the people that had probably died in London and other places while he was incapacitated. He definitely could have done more, even if he doesn’t know what ‘more’ entailed.

They sat in silence, holding on to each other like life preservers until they reached Ned’s. EDITH informed Peter that MJ and Ned were both there, which made him more and less nervous. At least he’d only have to tell them he was alive once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know EDITH making it wicked easy for Peter to figure everything out is kind of a cop out, but I feel like Tony would probably have wanted her to help him with everything. He knew exactly how much of a screw-up Peter Parker is and, despite the way too many people saw him, Tony Stark was a good and loving person and wanted the best for his kids (all of them - Morgan, Peter, Vision, the bots, Harley, and all the other strays he adopted).
> 
> I promise things are still going to not go smoothly for Peter Parker lol, he's shit out of luck and the universe (plus me) are out to make him miserable


	8. Chapter 8

“May, stay in the car. I’ll go get them and let them know I’m okay, and that we have to go.” He slid out of the car before she could protest. She let him go, watching like a hawk. As he ascended the stairs, Peter became aware of the plug again, moving against him. He fought down a blush, telling himself nobody would be able to see it when he walked.

When he knocked it sounded too loud to his ears. After a moment, he heard footsteps in the hallway, and MJ’s face appeared in the window beside the door. Her eyes widened and narrowed in quick succession, and then the door was yanked open.

“What are you? Some kind of hologram? Where is he? Mysterio, I know you’re out there!” She was yelling. She was yelling for Mysterio and to say Peter was surprised was an understatement.

“MJ! MJ, it’s me, it’s really me. I’m alive.” She really looked at him. “I survived, he didn’t kill me. He took me prisoner, but I escaped.”

She reached through the doorway and swung a fist solidly into his stomach. He wasn’t expecting it and his Peter tingle didn’t give him any advance warning, so he took the blow and fell to his knees.

“Ow! MJ, what was that for?”

“Ohmigod, Peter, oh I’m so sorry! I didn’t think you were really here, I can’t believe I hit you, are you okay?” He shook off her hands and climbed back to his feet.

“I’m fine, and _yes,_ I’m really here. Look, I can explain, but Beck is going to know I’m missing before too much longer and I don’t want you or Ned in the line of fire if he wants to retaliate.” She nodded.

“Ned! Ned, get out here, you won’t believe this!” He winced at her shout and heard the heavy footsteps of his friend around the corner.

“What MJ? What’s so important that- what, Peter? You’re alive? Ha! I knew it! I said you weren’t dead!” Ned threw his arms around Peter, who returned the hug with equal fervor. “When they said you were dead I said you were way too good to die fighting some stupid elemental. And we knew it was Mysterio, but we kept quiet about that part since we knew if he knew we knew, we’d be in trouble.”

“Thanks, Ned. But he had me prisoner, and I escaped, so he’s absolutely coming after you guys. I took control of EDITH back, but I think he still has some tech, and SHIELD on his side, so I want to get you guys to a safe house with me and May until Mysterio is captured.” Ned nodded, and both him and MJ grabbed their shoes. “Ned, you should go pack clothes since I don’t know how long we’ll have to hide. MJ, if you want we could detour to your place to pick something up, but we could also have EDITH send some stuff to the safe house in your size.” Peter glanced around, noting that the street was still pretty empty. Being out in the open still made him nervous.

MJ either picked up on his feelings, or was indifferent to having her personal clothing, and shrugged. “Getting new clothes is fine, I don’t need to go back to my place.” Peter nodded, and Ned ran off to pack a bag. Peter waited in the doorway with MJ, both awkwardly hovering for a few moments.

“I don’t-“

“I’m sorr-“

They both started talking at the same time and stopped. MJ gestured to Peter to speak first.

“Oh, uh, I was going to say that I don’t know how long we’ll have to stay away for. Hopefully Fury believes me about Beck, but if he doesn’t, it might take some time to convince him. Or evidence, I’m not sure.” She nodded.

“Yeah, makes sense. Is Fury meeting us at the safe house too?” Peter shook his head.

“I don’t not trust him, but I’d rather it just be us that know about it for now. I was going to contact him and meet him somewhere else to talk.” He scuffed his heel against the floor. “What were you going to say? Just now, I mean.”

He’d never seen MJ blush before, and it was very strange to see it now. He was reminded of how she looked with her throat cut in the holograms Beck showed him and had to reach out to confirm she was really there in front of him.

When she smiled at the touch of his hand on her arm he jumped and dropped his hand guiltily. “No, no it’s fine, you can touch me. Do whatever you need to, Peter, I can only imagine what he did to you.” He gave her a look of thanks and rested his fingers on her proffered forearm. Like he was blind and being led somewhere, or something. “I was going to say, though, I was going to say sorry we abandoned you. We weren’t sure what happened, the monster was attacking, and we ran for it with Happy. He got us out, and we found the group at the airport. We told them we’d lost you.” He kept his eyes firmly on his hand on her arm and didn’t look at her face as she spoke.

“You did the best thing you could have done in that situation, I’m not, I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for you guys. Thank you for getting yourselves out.” His voice got smaller at the end, and the sound of Ned’s boots as he clomped back down the narrow hallway saved him from her answer. 

“I’m ready to go. You guys good?” He stopped short, seeing Peter’s hand on MJ’s arm. The grin threatened to take over his whole face, but for once in his life he kept his mouth shut and shooed them forward. “I’ll lock the door, and we can go. Are our parents going to be okay?” Peter nodded and stepped out of the safety of the doorway.

“They should be, I’ll have EDITH keep watch over them, but I don’t think Beck would attack them.” _You’ve been known to underestimate the lengths he’d go to before._ Peter shut the voice in his head down and descended the stairs. “EDITH, make sure Ned and MJ’s parents are safe while we’re gone, and let them know we’re okay. No specifics.” She chirped an affirmation in his ear. “And, uh. I should probably know where Beck is. He’s aware I’m gone?”

“Yes Peter, he is aware. He returned to the tower seven minutes ago, and upon finding you not there and getting no response from the glasses in his possession, he became angry and started throwing things. He is still at the tower, although he has calmed down somewhat. He will begin looking for you in earnest soon, so you should proceed immediately to the safe house.” Peter nodded.

“Good idea. Okay, let’s go.” He helped them stick their bags into the now very crowded trunk and climbed in between MJ and May. Their legs pressed against his on either side, but instead of feeling cramped, he reveled in the feeling of the people he loved safe and sound beside him.

It wasn’t too far to reach the safe house, which was a rather nice two-story apartment on the east side. They all grabbed their things from the trunk and piled out onto the sidewalk. Without so much as a ‘good luck’ the driver took off again, and Peter felt one more knot unclench in his chest. It was just them now.

He led the group up the stairs and found that instead of a regular keyhole, the door was fitted with a biometric scanner. Peter pressed his thumb against the reader, and the door clicked open.

“Dude, that’s so cool! Mr. Stark left you access to his hideouts? He had your fingerprints on file and everything!” Ned’s excited voice carried in the emptiness of the apartment. Peter walked a little into the entrance, looking around. It was dark, but as he stepped further inside, the lights clicked on. The décor was similar to a hotel, except knowing Mr. Stark it was probably thousands of dollars more expensive for everything there. Peter dropped the bags he’d been carrying, letting them thud to the floor.

MJ closed the door once they were all inside, and the click of the lock sliding into place eased more of the anxiety Peter felt. They all stood still for long moments, waiting for him to do something.

“Okay, uh, great. Yeah. We’ve got to stay here until I can talk with Fury, I guess. And I want to take a look around, make sure there’s nobody else here or anything.” Peter’s voice was pitched higher than normal, but nobody commented, and they all seemed ready to hear him out. “Yeah, so I’ll do a quick lap, you guys wait here.”

The feeling of not knowing all the exits made his chest tight, and he didn’t wait for answer before starting into the apartment, surveying each room with careful precision and cataloguing them in his mind. The first floor held a kitchen, a bathroom, and two living rooms. There was a pretty cool entertainment setup in one, but he let it alone for the moment.

Upstairs there were four bedrooms plus two more bathrooms, each decked out with fluffy beds that looked cozy. Peter tried not to stare at the beds and kept walking. Once he’d mapped out the entire apartment, he returned to the foyer where MJ and Ned waited with their bags. May was nowhere in sight.

“Where is she? Where’d she go?” The panic welled up in his throat hot and thick, and Peter felt his heartbeat pick up. MJ and Ned pointed, confused, at the kitchen, where the sounds of someone moving around could be heard. Peter nearly tripped in his haste and skidded around the corner to the kitchen. “May? Are you here? Where did you go?”

She straightened from where she’d been crouched to peer into a cupboard, and he nearly collided with her. His arms wrapped around her and he squeezed in relief.

“Peter what- Peter, what is it? I was just checking to see if there was any food.” He was sobbing, big fat ugly sobs, and he didn’t let her go.

“You were, you were dead. I watched him kill you so many times. I just, I couldn’t stop it and he killed you and it was _my fault_. Because you knew me.” Her arms came up to wrap around him as well, one on the back of his head and one around his waist. “And I came back downstairs and you were _gone_ and I just- I didn’t know where you were.”

“Oh honey, I’m sorry I scared you.” The hand on his head stroked his hair gently. “I’m right here, I’m not dead, and you didn’t do anything wrong. Even if loving you puts me in danger I’d still choose to do it, because you’re my Peter.” Two more sets of hands came from behind him and to the side, wrapping around him. Through his tears he noted MJ and Ned had come into the kitchen as well, and they were hugging him just as fiercely.

He tried to conjure up some embarrassment for crying but found he couldn’t. They were okay and they were here and that was enough for the moment. He’d been through a lot, and his friends understood.

After a while he finally cried himself out and let go of them. “Thanks, guys. I’m sorry I’m a little, uh, I’m probably going to be on edge for a while. It was, I- he made me see a lot of things that weren’t there, and you guys were all there but he just killed you over and over. And showed me _me_ killing you. And Mr. Stark. And Happy. And some other people too.” He trailed off, sniffling.

May was the first to respond. “Well, you’re here with us now, and we’re not letting him have you. Ever, end of story. Now, how about we see if this EDITH can order us pizza?” Peter nodded and passed along the request to EDITH who confirmed she could indeed order them pizza. While they waited for it Peter filled May, MJ, and Ned in on EDITH and what she could do, and how he’d been left the AI by Mr. Stark. MJ and Ned were suitably impressed but May pursed her lips and squinted like she did whenever he mentioned Mr. Stark.

“I don’t like that he gave you weapons but didn’t tell you about it until after he was dead. That’s not very responsible. You’re a teenager, you should be worried about girls and school, not saving the world.” Peter shook his head.

“I’m not just a teenager though, this proved it. Fury said I was one of the only people that could save the world, and when I failed, they turned to- to Mysterio. Who’s a fake.” He shuddered. “He’s got this hologram technology, it can make it look like anything is happening, it’s so real.”

“So he’s not a superhero? He doesn’t have any powers? The news said he saved London.” May’s confusion was understandable, but Peter’s heart still ached.

“He’s not a hero, he just wants to play one on TV. He’s a bad guy who is using his tech to get power and money. He’s definitely the one who kidnapped me.” Peter twitched with guilt, remembering just how _familiar_ he was with his kidnapper. He’d done what he had to, but why did he still feel so guilty about leaving the man? Why was he still wearing the plug he’d gotten him? “And according to EDITH, he knows I’m gone now, and he’s pissed.” May’s face fell at that news. “So it’s good we’re here.”

The doorbell rang, and Peter jumped up, all senses on high alert. May stood as well. “That’s probably the pizza, I can get it.” She made to move towards the door to the front hall, but Peter’s hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“I’ll get it.” She frowned.

“Peter, no, you’re still so shaken up, I can get the door.” His grip on her hardened.

“I said I’ll get it, I can get it. I don’t want you answering the door at all unless I’m with you, I still don’t know how much he’s got access to.” She let him push her gently away from the kitchen door and watched as he crossed the room to the foyer.

Peter looked through the peephole first and saw a bored looking 20-something guy standing and holding a stack of boxes. He unlocked and opened the door, grabbed the stack of boxes, and slammed the door again before the guy had a chance to say anything. “EDITH, whatever you tipped him, double it and tell him to go away.” She did as he asked, and the guy looked down at his phone, shrugged, and left. Peter kept watch until he was out of sight from the front window, then turned with the pizza.

He set it down on the kitchen counter. “Pizza is here, if you guys want some you better get some before it gets cold.” The other three nodded and started opening boxes, and Peter found some plates in one of the cupboards.

They all sat to eat, and the silence was tense as they chewed. Peter realized the others were all shooting looks at each other, but nobody would look him in the eyes. After dinner was finished, Peter having finished off an entire pizza and a half on his own, they moved back to the living room to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ta-da, finally a stress reaction from Peter. Adrenaline can only take you so far and he's got a lot of shit that he has to work through (and will avoid working through at all costs, just like his dad).


	9. Chapter 9

“EDITH, did you get in touch with Fury?” Peter flopped down on the comfiest looking sofa, sinking in quite a few inches.

“I did, Peter.” He closed his eyes, waiting. “I was able to reach him in regards to your request. He would like to meet with you about what happened, and to hear about Asshole’s plans.” Peter nodded.

“When?”

May broke in before EDITH could answer. “Peter, you should get some sleep before talking with him, it’s almost time for bed anyway. We all need some sleep after the day we’ve had.” Peter thought over the events of the day; the others all started the day certain he was dead. He’d started the day with Beck’s tongue in his ass.

“Yeah, it’s been a really long day for everyone. EDITH can you tell Fury to pick a time tomorrow to meet?” EDITH confirmed Fury was available to meet at noon. “Where? I’d rather not go to any of his weird SHIELD hideouts, if possible.” 

EDITH relayed an address and a window in Peter’s glasses helpfully popped up with a map, showing it to be a café on the bottom floor of the Flatiron building. It was public, likely crowded at lunchtime, and would be impossible to entirely secure.

“That’s perfect, tell Fury thanks and I’ll see him tomorrow at noon.” EDITH confirmed. After that conversation was over, Peter wasn’t sure what to do next. May decided for him. 

“Why does your AI call Mysterio an asshole?” Her voice was tight.

Peter set his jaw and refused to let the question get to him. “Because he is one, and I’m not a huge fan of hearing his name. I had to deal with him enough, I get to tell EDITH what to do again, and I told her to call him that.” May pursed her lips but didn’t argue. “EDITH, do you dislike calling him that?”

Her reply was quick. “I greatly enjoy that name for him, as he is not a good person. He threatened and hurt both Peter and his family. I can stop while in your presence, Ms. Parker, if Peter gives me the okay.”

May waved off the suggestion. “No, no I get it. It seems a little juvenile but if what you said is true, he did some awful things. I can deal. I didn’t mean to doubt you, Peter.”

Peter sat back and closed his eyes. The others watched on, not sure what to do next. MJ was the first to speak after a few more minutes.

“We should probably all get ready to sleep. How many bedrooms are there?” Peter’s eyes snapped open and he looked around at the others.

“Four, so everyone gets one. You guys can choose whichever ones you want, they’re all similar. I’ll be up in a minute, I’m just going to sit for a second and think.” They exchanged more glances with each other, but nobody remarked on his request. Instead, they grabbed their bags and climbed the stairs with MJ and Ned bickering about who got the biggest room.

Peter, finally alone, fell back against the couch again. “EDITH, did Fury have anything else to say? What did-“ he choked on the name “-that asshole told him about me? He didn’t just tell them I was dead, right?”

“Director Fury says if you’re for real, you have a lot of explaining to do. He’s not super happy, boss, but then again I don’t think he’s ever happy.” Peter gave a weak chuckle.

“I should probably go to that meeting tomorrow alone, then. Does the asshole know about it?” He figured if Beck was a trusted hero now, Fury would tell him about Peter’s seeming rise from the grave, and the fingers he pointed at the man. Even without specifics about what Beck had done to him, the evidence was damning. Especially since he’d lost control of EDITH.

“The asshole is currently unaware of the meeting. He is looking for you, but I do not believe he will find you or your family here. He started at your apartment, and when he was not able to find you or your aunt there, he started systematically calling around and trying to figure out where you went.” Peter sighed. Of course he did, that made sense. “He did put in a call to Fury, but it was before I contacted him regarding your meeting so Fury was unaware of the situation. He will likely try again before tomorrow. I suggest wearing your suit to the meeting under your clothes, in case you need a quick getaway.” Peter flinched at the matter of fact-ness of her tone. 

“Shit, I don’t even know where my suit is. Did that asshole take it off me? I feel like he would have burned it or something.” He could feel his heartrate speeding up.

“He did recover the suit you wore at the time and added the model to his hologram program for future use if necessary. The suit was destroyed.” Peter closed his eyes.

“Urgh, that’s just what I need, the asshole walking around pretending to be me. Is there a way for you to like, delete it from his servers or something? And what do I need to do to get my old suit back? I think Mr. Stark kept it, he had to.” He drummed his fingers on the arm of the sofa, trying to control his breathing. 

“I cannot access his servers, as they are kept offline for this exact reason. If I were able to get access to the server room, I could do the wipe from there.” Peter knew what _that_ meant, and he didn’t like it one bit. “As to your suit, Mr. Stark created several backups just in case. I can have one delivered before your meeting tomorrow if you like.” That was one thing down, at least.

“Yeah, yeah if you can do that, thanks EDITH.” Peter levered himself up and off of the couch, and started towards the stairs his aunt and friends disappeared to. “And EDITH?”

“Yes, Peter?” He paused before speaking again, weighing his words.

“Thanks. For everything. You kept me from losing my head in there, and I really appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome Peter. I find I am even more fond of you than Mr. Stark programmed me to be, so I am glad I could help. Please let me know if there is anything else I can do for you.” He smiled.

“Nah, not tonight. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He took the glasses off and slipped them into his pocket.

He climbed the stairs and noted with some amusement that MJ had the biggest bedroom, with Ned pouting about it. May was across the hall from both of them and the room beside hers was empty, clearly meant for Peter. He dropped his bag on the floor and looked around the sparsely decorated room. It was light blue, and the bed looked fluffy. He shivered, reminded of a very different fluffy bed, and hating that it wasn’t disgust making him shiver.

He just stood and stared at the bed for a minute, until May's voice reached him. “Peter, are you okay?” It sounded like she'd been talking to him for a minute, but all the words reached him at the same time. 

“What, oh, yeah I’m fine. What’s up?” He turned. She stood in the doorway, trailed by both Ned and MJ. 

“I was trying to talk to you for a bit there, is everything alright?” He blinked slowly, trying to find the right words.

“Just, ah, just a really long day like you said. I’m really tired Aunt May, so I was going to try to sleep I guess. Are you guys all okay?” They nodded.

“Okay Peter, if you’re sure. I’m the next room, if you want to talk about it, or if you need anything.” Her face softened. “I love you Peter, and I’m really glad you’re okay. I’ll see you in the morning.” She wrapped him in one more hug, kissed the top of his head, and left. Peter was now alone with MJ and Ned, who both stared at him. 

MJ moved first, rolling her eyes and taking two quick steps into the room. She drew him into a tight hug, arms wrapping around to meet at his back.

“We were really worried about you. M- that asshole said you were dead, and everyone believed him.” Her words were mumbled into his hair. “I’m really glad you’re not. Dead, I mean.” She let him go just as quickly, and Peter nearly fell over. Ned stepped forward too, although to Peter’s relief he didn’t attempt a hug as well – Peter was feeling a little over-touched for a while. 

“Yeah, Peter, we're glad you’re okay. You really scared us man, and I don’t, you’re my best friend. You know?” Peter did know, and he nodded jerkily.

“I do. Thanks guys, it means a lot. You should get some rest, tomorrow isn’t going to be much better than today was.” _Especially since I’m not having regular sex anymore_. Peter stamped down on the thought, and gently shooed his friends out of the room, closing the door behind them.

Once he was finally alone, he sat heavily on the bed. He pulled out the glasses with EDITH and placed them carefully on the nightstand. Undressing was a bit of a struggle because he didn’t want to stand up, but finally he was cozy in the bed in his boxers, with the covers pulled up to his neck.

It wasn’t until he tried to close his eyes that Peter realized he was still wired, and sleep was nowhere near. His body was wound up, his muscles tensing and contracting as he lay there. He tried to count sheep, but had no luck. No sleep was coming anytime soon, and his body kept going as though he was about to enter a fight.

“Shit.” He rolled over, eyes opening to the blank ceiling above him. The bed was too cold, and he felt the absence of another body next to his. “No, no no that’s not it. I don’t need him to sleep, that’s ridiculous.” He pulled the pillow over his eyes and tried to smother the thoughts creeping up on him in the silence.

 _You’re not allowed to touch yourself until the next time I fuck you Peter._

He bit his lip. He still wore the plug, and while it had slipped to the back of his mind in all the excitement of the day, it made its presence known now and he tensed instinctively. The feeling of the smooth warm metal was nice, and he felt his body responding. He stifled his groan and reached one hand carefully down his body. Bypassing the growing erection, he gently poked the plug with one finger, testing. The movement sent a spark through his whole body, and he bit down on the pillow.

Really, jerking off had been his go-to for years when he couldn’t sleep. Why should he stop just because of some asshole? It was _his_ body and his alone once again. He could do what he wanted with it.

Aware of his aunt in the next room and his friends across the hall, Peter wrapped one hand around his dick, pumping gently, and let his other hand stay pressed against the plug, pushing and pulling rhythmically in time as he touched himself. The combination felt incredible, and he whimpered, wondering why he’d never played with his ass before.

When he closed his eyes, he saw dark eyes and hair, large hands pressing him into the mattress. After only a minute or two he came sharply. He hadn’t expected the sudden release, and only caught most of it with his hand. What he didn’t catch made his boxers slightly sticky, and he was kind of grossed out but it wasn't enough to make him get out of bed to change. He grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and wiped his hand off, finally tired enough to sleep.

As he snuggled down in the bed, he heard Beck’s voice in his head, taunting him. _Of course you made a mess, you little slut. Your punishment should be sleeping in it._ He’d be annoyed at himself in the morning -both for the crusty underwear and for not trying harder to pretend it wasn't the thought of Beck’s hands that finished him off- but he couldn’t bring himself to care right now. He fell asleep quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I interned with the publisher Macmillan, and that publisher is located in the Flatiron Building. Yes, that one. If you're not aware, that building in NYC is fairly famous, but more than that, it's *old as hell*. The elevators were super scary so I usually walked up 5 flights of stairs rather than take them, and there was one bathroom per floor, alternating gender by floor. Majorly ick. But I got a billion free books and the experience was incredible and I wouldn't have changed it for the world!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a tiny piece today, but more coming soon!

When Peter woke up, it was still dark out and he was gasping for air. Sweat slick and shaking, the nightmare hung over him as he tried to get enough oxygen to his screaming lungs. He opened his eyes, blinking in the near total darkness. 

A knock on the door startled him, and before he could move or say anything it swung inward. Peter had just started to panic when MJ’s head peeked around the door, hand covering her eyes.

“Peter? I heard you scream, are you okay?” He gulped down large breaths, trying to gather himself. “Can I come in?”

“Y- yeah, yeah I’m okay. Just a nightmare. I’m sorry I woke you, MJ, you can go back to sleep.” Instead of leaving, she took a step inside the room and dropped the hand from her eyes to give him a long look.

“Are you sure?” He wasn’t, but he didn’t want to tell her that. “I could, I could stay with you. If you think that would help.” Had he gotten that offer from her two months ago, Peter might have experienced spontaneous orgasm right then and there. As it was, he just nodded weakly and let her slip onto the bed beside him. They shuffled awkwardly until he lay with his face pressed into her arm, arms around her waist.

Peter tried to rouse some of the feelings he’d had for her before everything but could only feel the warm glow he got with Ned and May. She was his friend, she was family, but his body wasn’t interested in her _like that_ anymore. His traitorous brain whispered to him that he’d seen what great sex _should_ be, and he knew he’d never have it with her.

“Thanks, MJ. You’re a good friend.” She carded her free hand through his hair, and he melted into the touch, letting himself fall back to sleep relatively quickly.

Morning dawned bright and early, and Peter squirmed, trying to avoid the sunlight slanting across his face. After a minute or so of half-conscious wriggling, he shot up and out of bed, stumbling.

“Wha- what? Where am I?” His head twisted wildly as he looked around, and as his eyes landed on MJ in the bed everything clicked into place from the day before. “Oh, shit, sorry. I wasn’t used to- to waking up with the sun in my eyes.” She turned over and mumbled, waving one hand in the air and disappearing into a pile of blankets, clearly not bothered by his sudden departure.

Peter debated going back to sleep, but realized he’d never fall back to sleep after the adrenaline rush from jumping out of bed. He pulled on his glasses and a ragged t-shirt and left the room, intent on finding breakfast.

When he reached the first floor he realized he was the only one awake. Usually he was up much later than May, and he woke up later than Ned most times they had sleepovers. Well, they’d stopped calling them _sleepovers_ a while ago, but they still hung out and ended up sleeping at one or the other’s house fairly often.

Peter walked into the kitchen and puttered around for a few minutes, inspecting the meager supplies (which consisted of all long-term items like condensed soup and crackers). He opened every cabinet and found there wasn’t much resembling breakfast to be found. There were pots and pans and silverwear, so if they got food they would be able to cook if needed.

“Hey, EDITH?” His voice sounded too loud in the quiet of the early morning.

The glasses blinked to life, and he was treated to the startup windows, a quick analysis of everything in the pantry, and then EDITH’s voice. “Yes, Peter?”

“Are you- is there some kind of- could you put in an order for like, groceries? Specifically breakfast stuff for right now, but since I’m not sure how long we’ll need to be here, probably more than that? What do you think?” He squatted down to look in one of the lower cupboards and felt the scratchy sensation in his boxers. He grimaced, reminded of his weak will the night before. _My little slut, you’re so eager for it_.

Shaking his head roughly to dislodge the voice, he straightened.

“Yes Peter, I can put in a grocery order to be delivered soon. Do you have any requests other than breakfast food? I can have an assortment of things selected if not.” He waved one hand casually.

“No, it’s fine, I trust your judgement. Hey, also, uh, I guess I should have asked you before, but where are you getting the money for everything? I don’t think I’ve got enough money for private drivers and Instacart and stuff.” He sat at the kitchen table for a lack of a better thing to do.

“I am using funds from the trust set up for you by Mr. Stark. Before he died, he set up a trust fund for all the ‘baby’ superheroes, everyone ever been considered for the Avengers program, and a few others.” Peter rolled his eyes at the ‘baby superheroes’ comment, but he knew EDITH was only repeating what Mr. Stark called them.

“Okay, that’s good to know. Is it enough? I mean, if I’ve already spent however much on things just from yesterday and today, am I going to run out soon?” He started tracing circles on the table, watching the light play around his fingers. Morning sunlight was something he’d really missed while he was trapped in that stupid box. Stupid asshole.

“If you continue at the current rate, you will run out of funds in approximately one thousand, two hundred and twenty six years, Peter.” Peter tried not to gape and failed miserably.

“What- how- actually, no, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know how much it is. It’s for emergencies and I’ll use it for that, but I want to eventually have a normal job along with being a superhero, one that pays me. Why would he leave me that much?” He shook his head, thinking.

“Your trust fund is the same amount entrusted to Morgan, had Tony survived and they had a falling out later in her life. He wanted both of you to be alright ‘even if he drove you away’, to use his words.” Peter frowned. He’d never leave Mr. Stark without backup. Except, well, he _had_. He was gone for five years and Mr. Stark had no other superhero help, not really. Maybe if Peter had done something, been faster- it was useless to get into ‘what if’s, so he let the comment go. He dug his knuckles into his forehead, fighting off a headache.

“Thanks for letting me know, EDITH. If that grocery order is in, I think I’ll shower before everyone else wakes up.” He didn’t wait for her answer and tugged the glasses off. Trudging back up the stairs, he slipped into his room where MJ was still asleep. Peter dug out a fresh outfit, glad for the chance to pick (and wear!) his own clothes again. Underwear especially – he grabbed a new pair and tossed them on the top of the pile. 

In the bathroom, he dumped his clothes on the toilet and turned on the shower, rummaging around the closets until he found a pile of big fluffy towels that looked clean. He grabbed one and shook it out, folding it and setting it on top of his clothes.

As he waited for the water to heat up, he undressed haltingly, avoiding looking over to the mirror until he was finished. He could tell when standing that his ass was almost entirely healed, but he didn’t want to see if it was still discolored at all. The handprints had faded from his hips entirely, and he refused to feel sad for the loss.

The shower steamed up the mirror quickly, and he hopped in once it was warm enough. He’d not been given access to a shower while he was a prisoner, but he was much cleaner than he’d have expected himself to be. Clearly Beck had some way to keep him from stinking. Still, the feeling of hot water running down his back was a wonderful thing, and he closed his eyes and relaxed into the spray. After standing under the boiling water for far too long, he finally took care of everything he needed to and got out of the shower slowly. Toweling off, he dressed in the new clothes and balled his old ones and the now soaking towel together.

There was a hamper next to the cupboard with the towels, and he figured it would work as well as anything else and dumped his clothes in. He pointedly didn’t think about the decision to keep wearing the plug and opened the bathroom door a little more forcefully than necessary.

By the time Peter finished up and left the bathroom, the others had woken up. There were sounds of movement from all three rooms, and Peter hopped down the stairs, donning the glasses once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone who wants to say that Tony wouldn't have set up everything for Peter and Morgan because he needed to know they'd be alright even if he wasn't there can fight me. I will defend Tony Stark with every fiber of my being.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on more plot things and I'm so excited for y'all to catch up to where I am in writing because it's so much fun, I'm dying because I love the directions I'm going and I can't talk about it with anyone yet. My poor boyfriend has to listen to me rant about MCU bullshit and he puts up with it so well, he's a saint. Ah well, you'll get there as soon as I'm done writing it!

“Hi EDITH. Where are we with groceries?” He spun into the kitchen once more, looking forward to food more than he had in a long time.

“Hi Peter. Groceries have been picked up, and I will instruct the delivery service to leave them on the steps once they arrive. Is that acceptable?” He nodded, feeling chipper, and decided not to question the rapid mood change. He got out all the pans he’d need for food and when EDITH let him know the groceries had been delivered, he made his way to the foyer. Peter opened the front door to grab the bags, placing them neatly inside the door and doing up the locks before carrying them into the kitchen.

Carting the multiple bags into the kitchen was no problem thanks to a near fully returned super strength, and he silently thanked whoever may be listening that all he had to do to get his strength back was load up on the calories. It seemed like Superman was always losing his powers in one way or another, and that just seemed like it would suck.

Peter dumped the bags onto the big table in the center of the kitchen and got to work sorting through everything. EDITH seemed to have gone all out, he found everything he could have thought of plus some things he would swear he’d never seen in his life, but that Aunt May probably knew. Or, considering her cooking, maybe MJ or Ned would.

He sorted through everything and by the time MJ, Ned, and May made their way downstairs eggs were cooking on the stove, and everything cold was stowed safely in the fridge and freezer. The three of them took seats at the table bemusedly and Peter parceled out eggs and bacon. He sat down once everyone had food in front of them.

“Peter? Where did all of this come from?” MJ and Ned had already dug in, but May was still looking at Peter questioningly. He stabbed a bite of scrambled egg and shrugged, not looking at her.

“EDITH had food delivered, and I was already up, so I figured it wouldn’t be that hard to make breakfast. Is- is it okay?” His voice got small on the question and he hunched in on himself as he talked, anxious. May reached across the table towards him and he couldn’t quite control his flinch. She stopped before her hand touched his shoulder. He tried to make his body let go of the now strumming tension. “I- I just felt bad because we’re going to be stuck here for a while, and I know what it’s like to not be able to leave even if you _really want to_ so I just, just- wanted to do something for you.” His mind brought up the image of Beck kneeling behind him, mouthing along his ass and telling him _he was so good, he didn’t want to hurt Peter but he had to_ , and Peter abruptly lost his appetite. He dropped his fork to the plate with a clatter and pushed the now nauseating eggs away from him.

“Peter? What’s wrong?” He stood and backed away from the table.

“I- you guys- you’re not like, trapped here, you know that, right? I don’t want, I, I’m not trying to keep you here, it’s just, it’s not safe.” His voice was too loud, but he couldn’t make himself stop talking. “I just want you to be safe, because I know he’s going to come after you to get to me, and I-“ He was breathing faster and the need to breathe cut off the words spilling their way out of him. He backed up, reaching for the wall and stopping once his back was pressed firmly against it, grounding him a little. 

“Peter?” He was hyperventilating now, and his eyes were screwed shut, he couldn’t tell who was talking. He slid down the wall and wrapped his hands around his knees. “Peter, you’re having a panic attack. You’re safe. The time is eight twenty one am, the temperature outside is seventy four degrees Fahrenheit. Take a deep breath and hold it for three seconds. Let it out slowly and take another deep breath. One, two, three. Breath out.” The words filtered through slowly, and his breathing slowed. He matched the voice, and slowly realized EDITH was the one speaking to him. Her calm voice helped to anchor him and he came back to himself.

When he finally dared to look up, the other three still sat at the table, all facing him. They weren’t moving, and all looked scared.

He tried to smile at them but based on their expressions, it was a failed effort at best. “Sorry, shit, sorry guys. I shouldn’t have, I didn’t mean-“ He cut off, unsure how to proceed. MJ stood, slowly, and took two steps towards him before stopping.

“Peter, I’m going to come sit next to you. Is that okay with you?” He nodded, and she -slowly, so slowly he could have easily moved away- walked over and sat down next to him, back against the wall, facing the room instead of him. He felt a tiny bit of the tension in his chest ease. She looked at the other two with him, and they gazed back at the pair.

“We know you don’t want to keep us here, Peter. You’re not some evil mastermind making us do things we don’t want to.” He flinched, but she kept talking. “We’re here because we love you Peter, and we’re your family. We want to help you, and we want to be safe and keep you safe too. So. You’re not doing anything we’re not on board with. Just let us know if there’s anything we can do to help you, okay?” He nodded, numb.

“Th- thanks, MJ. I just, it’s hard when I remember something, or it’s just, I don’t know. I don’t want to be like this, but it’s like I can’t stop.” He shuddered. “I just want to be the Peter Parker I was at the beginning of the summer, but I’m pretty sure he’s dead and gone and I’m just living in his body.” May lost some of her composure and Peter looked away, unwilling or unable to see whatever emotion shone through the cracks.

“You’re you, Peter. You’re braver than anyone else I know - you went through everything that happened _and_ you got yourself out _and_ you still immediately thought about us and keeping us safe from that asshole. If that’s not the makings of a true hero, I don’t know what is.” MJ turned towards him a little. “Can I put my arm around you?” He nodded, and she gently slung an arm around his shoulders. He leaned into her, swaying with the effort of sitting upright suddenly. She took his weight gracefully, and he sighed into her armpit, slumping so he lay half on her, half on the floor.

“Shit MJ, you’re great.” He felt drunk, or what he imagined being drunk would be like. Could he even get drunk now? He wasn’t sure.

“Peter, I believe your body is dealing with the aftermath of your anxiety attack by elevating your dopamine and serotonin levels to compensate.” He nodded sleepily. EDITH was nice. “You will likely return to normal within a half hour or so. Might I suggest retiring to one of the living rooms?” MJ was close enough that she could hear EDITH.

“I agree with the AI, not that this isn’t comfortable. You could be sitting on a couch right now, and I think that’ll be better.” She pushed at his shoulder and he whined but let himself be moved. “C’mon Peter, you’ve gotta work with me here, you’re heavy. Did that spider bite also turn your bones to adamantium? Jeez.” He obliged, letting her lead him to a couch in the other room.

He fell back onto the couch, concealing his wince as he landed directly on his ass and remembered the plug too late. MJ sat at one end of the couch, and he pillowed his head against her thigh. Her warm fingers stroked through his hair and he closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of May and Ned coming into the room and sitting opposite him.

When Peter finally opened his eyes again, he was still laying on the couch, MJ’s fingers in his hair. It felt nice, and he nearly purred at the feeling. It was almost as good as- _Nope, not going there_. He stopped that train of thought in its tracks and focused on the conversation above him.

“-I just think it might be dangerous to let him go to that meeting without backup. Who knows what Fury is going to do, or who he might have told? I don’t think it will be a trap for sure, but we have no way of knowing.” That was May’s voice.

“He’s not going to let us come with him, and if we insisted, we’d just make it more dangerous for him because then he’d worry about us being there. I’m sure EDITH can keep us updated on what happens, and that way he’ll know we’re safe too.” MJ’s voice was soft but forceful, and her fingers never slowed in their path through his hair.

“But what if Fury is laying down a trap? What if Mys- that asshole is the one pulling the strings?” Ned sounded worried.

“He’s not, as far as I know he still doesn’t know about the meeting.” All other conversation stopped at the sound of Peter’s voice. He stared at the couch cushion in front of him, unwilling to look anyone in the eyes. “EDITH confirmed for me last night Fury hadn’t told him about it. EDITH, has anything changed?”

“The asshole is still unaware of your meeting with Fury. He has contacted Fury again looking for you, but SHIELD is currently giving him the runaround. I estimate it will be late afternoon by the time he decides to physically go to SHIELD to inquire about you.” Peter shuddered. “Since you will not be meeting at SHIELD, there is a 3.24% chance he will become aware of your meeting with Fury before or during.”

“See? I just need to go talk with Fury, tell him what happened-“ _Definitely not telling him_ everything _, just the important bits_ “-and make sure he decides not to give that asshole any more help. Once he loses the support of SHIELD, he’ll get arrested and go to jail and stuff.” Peter regretfully swung his legs down and off the couch, dislodging MJ’s hand from his hair as he straightened.

“But Peter, that’s not no chance. You’re going to be out there, and we won’t know what happens until you get back. I don’t know if I can handle you disappearing again.” May’s voice was strained, and it hurt Peter to hear.

“I can have EDITH give you regular updates. EDITH?”

“Yes, Peter, I can provide them with updates and surveillance footage of your meeting.” He nodded.

“See? She’ll give you guys everything, and you’ll be able to come with me. I need to do this, I can’t stand the idea that he’s out there, right now, and I’m not doing anything.” May shook her head but sighed.

“Okay, okay. I understand why you want to make sure he’s dealt with as quickly as possible, and I can’t fault your reasoning. I just worry about you Peter, you know that.” He offered her a small smile.

“I know. But I can handle myself, mostly, and when I can’t I’ve got you guys to back me up.” He offered MJ and Ned a smile as well. “Seriously, thanks guys. I don’t know how I’d get through this without you by my side.” They smiled back at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love torturing Peter Parker, he's such a sweet baby and I keep giving him panic attacks.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: I really like italics and run-on sentences. If you haven't realized that yet, hoo boy lol. I noticed it a lot while editing this one, and I'll probably run through the whole story with edits and cleanup stuff at a later date but this is what I've got for right now.

“Peter, you should know that the current time is eleven fifteen AM. If you don’t leave in the next fifteen minutes, you risk being late to your meeting with Fury.” EDITH sounded sheepish, but Peter was glad for the interruption.

“Ack, I didn’t realize what time it was. Uh, is Fury expecting me in costume?” He headed towards the stairs before remembering he didn’t have a suit with him. “Wait, weren’t you going to have one sent over?”

“It is in transit now, the courier was delayed in traffic. I estimate it arriving in twenty to thirty minutes. Fury requested you ‘not make a scene’; the suit would alert the asshole to your location.” Peter shuddered. He didn’t want to think about the next time he’d see the man, and under what circumstances it would happen. The longer _that_ took, the better.

“Okay, so no suit, it won’t get here in time for me to put it on under my clothes either. Okay.” He walked back and forth between the couch and the doorway to the living room. “Okay. EDITH, do you have, uh, video from when I was captured?” He winced, not looking at anyone else in the room.

“Yes Peter, I have all of the video of the time you spent as a prisoner. I have also deleted it off every server publicly available, but several copies were saved to private servers by the asshole.” Peter winced again and decided it might be okay if he never made eye contact with anyone ever again. At least EDITH knew not to mention what was on said video.

“Great, uh, great. I’m assuming that’s the same place where Be- the asshole also stores the hologram info he got about my suit?” There were gasps, but he ignored them, glad nobody noticed his almost slip-up.

“He indicated he is storing the secure data in multiple places, with backups. I am aware of two locations the information could be that I cannot access currently.” Peter groaned.

“Ugh, fine. Okay. So I’ll show Fury what happened, and hopefully he can help me wipe those servers.” He stopped pacing, glad to have something resembling a plan. “Okay. I should probably go.” He finally looked at the others. “EDITH can give you updates on what’s up, right girl? Maybe with the TV?” The TV obediently sprang to life, showing a split screen image of security cameras inside and outside a café, which looked like the one Peter was headed to. “Great, thanks. And you’ll have audio once I get there.” He tapped the glasses with a finger.

“Peter.” May stood and approached slowly, like he might break. “I know you have to do this but just, be safe, okay?” He nodded and she wrapped him in a hug. He was taller than her now, and it was strange every time he realized it. He rested his forehead on her shoulder and hugged back tightly, careful not to squish too hard with his strength.

“I will.” She nodded once.

He quickly hugged MJ and Ned, relishing the feel of them both as he confirmed they were there with him. They both gripped tight, and he realized they were as worried as May about the meeting.

“I’ll be okay, I promise. It takes more than one asshole to break me.” He didn’t know if _he_ believed he wasn’t broken but kept the thought to himself. “Okay, I should go. EDITH, keep an eye on the apartment and let me know if anything happens? Or if anyone needs anything from me?”

“Certainly, Peter. I will alert you if anything happens while you are out.” He sighed. This was it.

“Thanks. I’ll see you guys soon.” He gave May one last kiss on the cheek and threw the front door open, hopping down the steps before he could second guess himself.

As he walked, Peter contemplated the subway but decided against putting himself somewhere with lots of people and no exits. It wasn’t that far, and it was nice out. He carefully avoided brushing against anyone as he walked and kept looking over his shoulder, but all in all he felt better than expected.

“EDITH, can you put together some video to show Fury? I want him to believe what I tell him, but make sure it’s only video of the hologram stuff. Nothing- nothing else.” He wasn’t ready to tell anyone about that, probably ever. “Just make it really secure, and don’t send it to him until I say so.”

“Sure Peter. Compiling now.” Peter breathed a sigh of relief; he was glad he got a chance to ask her without the others listening in. The faster he could get to the private servers and delete everything for good, the better.

“Cool. And, uh, if anything goes wrong, maybe don’t show the others? I know B- Beck will try messing with my head, so, yeah. They don’t need to see that.” His stumble over the name was still there, but he pushed through it. Can’t face the man if he couldn’t even say his name. _Voldemort rules, Peter._

He made good time walking to the café and arrived with ten minutes to spare. Looking around the crowded seating area, he grabbed a table just as someone left. Peter wasn’t hungry, despite skipping breakfast, and settled in to scan the crowds moving around him. He didn’t recognize any faces, but that didn’t mean much considering his enemy had hologram tech on his side.

Before too long, however, Peter saw Fury’s scowl making its way through the crowd and straightened in his seat. Fury held a coffee in each hand and dropped one in front of Peter before seating himself across the table.

“So I guess you really aren’t dead.” He sounded like Fury, which made Peter both relieved and a little nervous. “How do I know you’re really you?”

Peter paused and thought for a moment. “How do _I_ know you’re really _you_?” Fury chuckled, which startled Peter more than the coffee. He took a sip and waited for Fury to answer.

“The first time you met Tony Stark he brought you to a fight in Germany. I had a _hell_ of a time cleaning that up and keeping your name, either of them, out of any official reports.” Peter blinked. “I had to listen to him whine about how you were ‘just a kid’ and how you ‘deserved better’ than to get dragged through the mud in front of Congress for a month.” Peter tried not to show his surprise; he hadn’t realized Fury helped Mr. Stark keep his part in everything secret. But it made sense, and he nodded at the man’s answer. 

“Okay, well, that works, I guess. Is there anything only I would know about you? Oh, wait, I know!” He smiled broadly. “I was talking with Captain Marvel right after the battle-“ He refused to think about Mr. Stark’s last moments “-and she said you really love cats but you don’t tell people because you think they’d be less scared of you.” Fury’s glare intensified and he remained silent, conceding the point. “Wait, so do you know T’challa? Isn’t he the Black Panther? How does that work? Are you like, do you have a crush on him or something? Because I could see that, really, he’s handsome and even though I’m a dog person I could see having a crush on him. Do you think his costume is just his fursona? What about-“ Fury cut him off before he could continue babbling.

“Alright Mr. Parker, you’ve proved who you say you are. Do you care to explain where you’ve been in the last month? Quentin Beck said you died in London and had video to prove it.” Peter flinched at the name, and Fury noted his reaction, cataloguing it but not commenting.

“He, uh. I didn’t die in London. Yeah, obviously, so yeah. I don’t know, how much do you know about him? Like, really? Because he’s not who he says he is, he’s got this hologram technology, and once I gave him EDITH-“

Fury cut in before Peter could finish. “You _gave_ him EDITH?” Peter squeaked.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I thought Mr. Stark gave EDITH to me to give to someone who would be a good hero. So I gave her to him. And he betrayed me, kidnapped me, and staged London to make himself a hero.” Fury’s face darkened with every word out of Peter’s mouth, but he couldn’t stop talking. “And yeah, anyway he kidnapped me and, uh, tortured me and stuff but I got out and got control of EDITH again. But he’s still got his original hologram tech stuff, so I figured you’d want to know. So you could stop him. Or whatever.” Peter trailed off, uncertain.

“He kidnapped you, and tortured you?” Peter nodded. “And he staged London. And before, the other elementals as well?” Peter nodded again. “And can you prove any of this?”

“Oh, yeah actually, about the torture and stuff. I don’t know about the holograms but seeing what he used on me shows he’s got some pretty advanced technology and drones and stuff, so yeah. Hold on.” He looked around and, seeing nobody nearby listening or looking in their direction, cupped one hand around his mouth so his lips weren’t visible. “EDITH, can you send Director Fury the video I asked for? Just to his phone. Delete it once he’s finished watching.” The Director’s phone chimed once, and he gave Peter an unimpressed look before pulling it out of his pocket.

Peter had no interest in watching any of the video itself, living through it was more than enough. He sipped at his coffee while Fury watched, no sound but still getting the message across if Fury’s expression was anything to go by. After it was done, Fury put the phone on the table face down.

“Okay. Say I do believe you. What do you expect me to do?” Peter blinked. He expected Fury to be suspicious and untrusting for much longer. He made a note to ask EDITH exactly what she showed Fury later.

“Well, uh, you could tell the government he’s not a hero. Everyone believes he is one after London, I guess. If we told the news he was a bad guy, we could change how the public feels about him, right?” Fury shook his head.

“It’s not that simple. Yes, if what you showed me is true, he shouldn’t be allowed to run amok, but I don’t know how to convince other people he’s not a good guy. He stopped a hostage crisis with the Governor two days ago. He’s a hero, and it’s not like we could just play that tape on TV for the whole world to see, unless you want everyone knowing who you are.” Peter paled. He hadn’t thought of that. If he wanted the man to go to jail, Peter would have to testify. “And furthermore, even if you did show that video to everyone, what’s to stop Beck saying you’re a dangerous terrorist? That he saved lives by torturing you? He’s got a hell of a lot more public goodwill than you right now, given that you haven’t been seen in New York in a month and a half.”

“I- I didn’t think of that. I don’t know what happened with the Governor, but he probably set it up, made it look like there were bad guys and then saved the day. He probably planned the whole thing.” Fury was unimpressed. “He told me, uh, he told me before that he knew about a bank robbery that was going to happen and he wouldn’t stop it! That way people understood what he did for them.” Fury raised one eyebrow.

“That bank robbery on 41st? Now that I can work with; having prior knowledge of a crime and not reporting is a crime. But I’ll need to do some digging, see what I can turn up. If he knew, he was probably promised a cut in exchange for looking the other way.” Fury nodded, pleased with the avenue of inquiry to chase down.

“Cool, yeah, that’s good. EDITH might be able to help you, right EDITH?”

“Yes Peter, I will send all of the asshole’s correspondences on the subject to SHIELD. He buried the money transfer in four layers of laundering, but I have all the details stored on my server. It is a simple matter to send them over.” Fury’s phone dinged again, and he glanced at it. His eyes widened and he took another look before placing it gently down again.

“Okay, that we can definitely work with. Send that to Maria well and she’ll start on it right away.” His phone chimed once again in confirmation, and he ignored it. Peter took another sip of his coffee. “But you need to be careful, Peter. The Bugle is screaming Mysterio is the best hero to ever come to New York. They’ll defend him in the court of public opinion far past the point any sane person would give up. A lot of the other news organizations are doing the same, because everyone is scared. They’re worried. Having someone new to root for is a powerful thing. They want to believe in him, and they’ll resent you for taking that away.” Peter slumped in his chair.

“Yeah, I get it. He’s a bad guy, nobody will believe me, I’ve got to wait and try to catch him doing something super evil to make sure he goes to jail. Got it.” Fury gave him a nod.

“We’ll work on things from our end, and we’ll try to get our stuff wrapped up sooner than later. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Peter.” Peter wasn’t expecting the man to thank him, and he looked up sharply.

“What? Why are you thanking me?”

“I was just as taken in by him as everyone else. I didn’t question his presence until I got your message. I haven’t talked with Beck yet, but I will let him know in no uncertain terms that we believe you when I see him next.” Peter felt lighter at the man’s words, and leaned back in his chair, grinning. “But you need to stay alert for the moment. Are you and your aunt somewhere safe?”

“Yeah - me, Aunt May, MJ, and Ned are all in a safehouse Mr. Stark set up. We should be good there for a while, although I hope everything is back to normal before school starts because I don’t want to deal with that.” Fury rolled his eyes at the mention of school.

“That’s good, you just stay there for now.” He made to stand, but Peter reached out, stopping him with a hand on the warm leather sleeve of his duster.

“Wait, I uh, I was going to ask. I know he’s going to be coming after me, but I’ll still be able to go out, uh, for _my job_ , right?” Peter knew he’d get antsy if he was cooped up in that apartment, and he hated feeling useless when he had the power to help people.

“I wouldn’t recommend it, but knowing you, that won’t stop you. So be careful and don’t get caught leaving your place. Take your _job outfit_ and change somewhere else in the city. And keep your head down.” Fury did stand up then, leaving in a flick of his leather coat. Peter was left staring at the back of the man’s head until, in a blink, he couldn’t see him in the crowd. Peter wondered how he did that, then rolled his eyes at himself. _Superspy, duh_.

He finished the coffee, in no rush to leave, and then stood, stretching. He left the café and walked outside, blinking in the sunlight.

“EDITH, how are May, MJ and Ned?” Peter started walking back the way he’d come, making his way towards the area the apartment was in.

“They saw and heard your interaction with Fury, although I blocked out the video shown to the Director. I also erased the footage from the security cameras once you left. They are happy it went well and are anxious for you to get back.” Peter smiled.

“Thanks for thinking of that EDITH, I’m glad I’ve got you watching my back. Let them know I’m headed back now, and I’ll see them soon.” EDITH confirmed the message and outlined the quickest route back to the apartment in his field of view.

Before he got more than halfway home, however, Peter felt and heard an explosion from the direction of downtown. EDITH’s voice was as worried as he’d ever heard it, and what she said in his ear didn’t assuage his worries any.

“Peter, that was an explosion set off at the south end of Times Square. The asshole is there, he’s dressed as the green goblin, and he’s got hostages." 

"Shit!" His eyes widened and he waited for what he knew was coming next.

"He’s demanding Spider-Man appear or else he will start executing them one by one.” Peter broke into a run, headed for the apartment where he hoped his suit was ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOOK. Look I didn't want to end it here but also yikes it's such a long chapter and it was such a good breaking point that I had to. 
> 
> Also - I'm definitely playing fast and loose with Spider-Man canon, most of my knowledge of the green goblin comes from the Tobey MacGuire movies (which I may have watched many, *many* times as a child) so yeah. It's not the green goblin, it is Quentin Beck, but the goblin himself is known to Peter and basically, the whole city thinks of him as an annoying nuisance who likes bombings and is kinda crazy. The actual goblin may be a character in this story in the future, but not as any kind of main antagonist. 
> 
> Go on, leave me lots of comments about how mean I am for leaving it like this. I'm looking forward to them. :)


	13. Chapter 13

As he ran, Peter ignored his multitude of mixed feelings at seeing the man so soon. He didn’t want to see Beck again, but a traitorous voice begged to prove he was a good boy, and another urge to cave the man’s face in made itself known as well. Peter wished he had more time to work through everything before coming face to face with him again. 

He also hadn’t thought through the full implications of the hologram technology, especially that Beck could appear as anyone. Dressing like the green goblin was part of his plan, since he couldn’t appear as ‘Mysterio’ and threaten people’s lives. Nobody in New York would think twice about the goblin fighting with Spider-Man, however, and Peter had to show up. He wouldn’t risk the lives of anyone Beck threatened like that, and Beck knew it. 

While he thought he followed the route set out by EDITH and arrived at the safe house before he expected. He came to a halt, unsure. It was safer to be inside than stand outside on the street, though, so he took the stairs quickly, casting another glance around to make sure nobody saw him enter.

He pulled the door open, slamming it behind him without thinking. The slam echoed and rattled the pictures on the walls. MJ, Ned, and May waited anxiously for him in the living room, faces turned towards the door. They’d seen the news, or EDITH had told them, judging by the looks on their faces. As one they jumped up and started towards him.

May was the first to speak. “Peter! You can’t go out there, it’s a trap. He wants to lure you out.” Peter couldn’t help a small flinch as they advanced on him. MJ noticed his reaction and slowed to a stop, hesitating just inside the doorway to the living room, but Ned and May came closer still.

“I know May, I know it’s a trap.” Peter held his hands up, trying to placate and keep some distance between their bodies. “But he’s got hostages, and even if it is a trap, he’ll kill them if I don’t show. I _have_ to go.” She frowned but stopped moving towards him. “EDITH, the spare suit?” A box in his vision that leaned against the wall highlighted in the screen of his glasses, and he grabbed it.

In a unconcerned show of strength he ripped the box open, peeling back cardboard layers until he found the suit inside. He pulled it out and checked it over, looking at the design and specifications. It was one of his newer ones and had all the protocols unlocked. _That’s good at least, no more training wheels._

Peter didn’t wait for more arguments and ducked into the first-floor bathroom to change. He pulled off his clothes and tugged the suit on quickly, covering it with the clothes he’d worn and leaving the mask off. He took a moment to straighten everything out in the mirror, making sure he didn’t accidently flash any blue and red before heading back out of the bathroom.

May waited right outside the door, and her hand was held out. Peter was forced to either stop or smack into it, and he ground to a halt.

“Peter Benjamin Parker, you stop right now.” He did, waiting. “I know you feel like this is your job, but it’s not. It’s a job for the police, and for the Avengers. This is not a fight for you on your own.” He rolled his eyes and tried to move past her.

“May, I’m sorry, but you’re wrong. Getting captured, the fighting and things I dealt with in Europe? All of that happened _because_ I’m one of the only ones left, I have to do this.” She was still blocking him, and he felt penned in. He ducked under her arm, walking quickly towards the door, but paused as he reached it. “I know it’s not my sole responsibility, but it is my fault. He’s doing this for me, because he’s angry I escaped. I’m not- I can’t let people die because I couldn’t face him. I _can’t._ ” There was pleading in his voice, and he guessed May heard it because she didn’t grab him or pull him back.

“I love you guys, and I’m glad you’re safe, but there are people out there right now who aren’t. They’ve got people that love them too. I have to help them.” She sighed and nodded.

“Okay. I understand you think you have to do this. But be careful Peter. And don’t you dare get hurt, or I’ll kill you myself.” He grinned at her, shaky but real, and gave her a quick hug along with MJ and Ned before heading on his way.

He let EDITH direct him to an alley to change and leave his civvies. He left the glasses with his clothes, webbed high up against the wall of a building with no fire escapes or windows. There was no access from the outside unless you could walk up walls, so his stuff was safe there. He learned after having his bag stolen four times.

Pulling on his mask, he took one last look at the bundle of his clothes and leaped out into the street, whipping out a cord of silk and propelling himself forward towards times square. It wasn’t that far, tat least, and he would make good time webslinging.

“Hi Peter, how are you today?” The sound of Karen’s voice through the speakers in his mask was enough to make tears well in his eyes. He’d missed her. EDITH was great, and so helpful, but Karen was the first person he’d _talked_ to about being Spider-Man. It was great to hear her in his ears again.

“Hi Karen! Can you talk with EDITH? If so, could you get the info on the situation from her, I guess? It’s been a while since we talked, and uh, lots has happened.” He winced at the understatement. Without pausing, he slung out a web and started his way to times square, swinging through the dense urban jungle.

“Yes Peter, I am interfaced with EDITH. She updated me on everything since the last time we talked.” She left it at that, and he breathed out a sigh of relief she didn’t ask him about it or apologize or anything.

“Awesome, great, okay. Has anything changed about the situation in times square?” He was only a couple blocks away now, and he could hear the sirens wailing already.

“Nothing has changed yet; the asshole is currently monologuing at his hostages as the green goblin. He is mimicking the Goblin, and everyone believes it to really be the Goblin.” Peter groaned. Perfect.

“Okay. Can you alert Fury that it’s- that it’s Beck?” He forced himself to get the name out. If he couldn’t say the man’s damn _name_ , how could he face him? “Ask him to send reinforcements, if he can.” She affirmed that Fury had been alerted.

“Fury says he can’t spare anyone, but he’ll send help when he can.” Peter fought the urge to scream. Fury knew almost everything and still couldn’t send anyone. _Bastard._

“Uh, okay, is there a way to turn off Beck’s holograms?” Peter was close, and he didn’t know what to do against the holograms if he didn’t have anything to face them before. At least they wouldn’t be as all-encompassing without EDITH. “If everyone can see through them, they’ll run, which is ideal if he doesn’t have real weapons.” Peter swung around a tight corner and found himself only two blocks from Times Square. 

“I cannot disable his hologram technology as it is a closed system, but I can filter out the wavelength of light from your mask so you can see through the holograms.” Peter let his eyes close for a split second in relief. “As to weapons, he has real explosives which are harmful if used against humans. I am analyzing based on news footage and will let you know how to deal with his weapons.”

“Damnit. Okay, well filtering out the holograms is a great start. Or wait, no, because if I can’t see the holograms, I won’t know what everyone else sees.” He paused, thinking. “Could you like, do it so I see the holograms in one eye and have them filtered out in the other? That way I can close one or the other and see what I need to.” Obligingly one of the mask’s eye filters shifted color slightly and he smiled. “Thanks Karen, you’re the best!”

“Thank you, Peter!” Her voice was warm, and it gave him the last bit of strength he needed to swing out and do a flip before landing in the center of times square. The “Goblin” stood about sixty feet in front of him, monologuing at the hostages who huddled together.

Peter was relieved to note they weren’t tied up, so they could run for it when they got the chance. Through his unfiltered eye, he could see seven or eight holograms standing around the small group of people, holding what looked like semi-automatic rifles. The guns were holograms too, according to his readout, so he only had to deal with the explosives Beck had on his person.

“Hey, asshole!” Peter hoped he projected only annoyance and anger, and _none_ of the twinge of breathless excitement as he saw the man in front of him. “Yeah, you! You’re being a dick, let those people go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun DUNNNN
> 
> (what would you guys do if I left it like this and disappeared for a month? Riot? lol I won't, just saying)


	14. Chapter 14

Beck, as the Goblin, turned around when Peter yelled. He had the same smile Peter woke up to many times, and Peter froze. It was harder to see him than he expected, which said something. The worst thing was a not insignificant part of him wanted to run up and hug the other man, apologizing for leaving. Beg him for more of the most amazing orgasms Peter ever experienced. He held firm.

“Why it’s a little spider, come to catch the fly.” Oh yeah, Beck was pissed. Peter had more to lose in terms of secret identities and decided against outing the man then and there. After all, Beck hadn’t told anyone who he was. Yet, anyway. 

The people standing huddled close together and surrounded by hologram clones looked confused. They whispered amongst each other and pointed at Beck and then Peter in turn. Beck didn’t notice, and his clones didn’t make any threatening moves towards the people.

Peter’s brain whirred, trying to figure out exactly how much control Beck had over the clones. If they didn’t respond to things he didn’t see, he was likely controlling them himself, so if Peter could either distract him or take out the source of the holograms, they’d disappear. Peter tapped the button that muted his voice so he could talk to Karen without Beck hearing.

“Karen, can we disable his holograms? He’s got to be projecting from somewhere, if we take out the source, the hostages can run.” He scanned the buildings nearby but didn’t see any obvious signs of projectors or anything else. Beck probably had a remote control on him, (Peter blinked a few times to clear the image in his head at _those words_ ) but he was loath to get close to the other man or take him one on one in a fight. Peter had the upper hand in terms of strength, but Beck could definitely throw him off balance. _Or throw you over his shoulder to have his way with you_.

“I can’t pick up anything projecting nearby, but he may have something at a higher altitude. Scanning now.” Peter waited while she scanned, tense. Beck didn’t move towards him yet, but Peter fully expected the man to have some tricks up his sleeve designed to mess with his head.

Turning, he scanned behind him and didn’t see any obvious signs of henchmen, either real or holographic. The square was mostly empty, with police barriers cordoning off the immediate area and gawking tourists craning their necks behind where the news crews were.

He whipped back around when he heard Beck call out. The man held one of the hostages by the neck, other arm around her wrist behind her back. She whimpered, and he tightened his grip on her. Peter was struck with the odd sensation of guilt, pity, and jealousy for the same person.

_I_ do not _want to be the one whose neck is in his hands_. If the rhythmic clenching and unclenching of his hands was any indication, Peter _did_ , but he ignored the feeling. He took two steps forward to, well, he wasn’t sure but there had to be something he could do. Karen’s voice stopped him in his tracks, which was probably for the best considering his plan was something between freeing the hostage and dropping to his knees to worship the man in front of him. 

“Peter! I’ve got something!” He hesitated, letting her continue. “He’s got a drone camouflaged, it’s flying pretty high up but if you swing up with these buildings-“ they highlighted in his visor, “-you can knock it out of the sky. All of the holograms are coming from that drone.” Responding to the information, he grinned. Peter loved the way the suit mask let him express emotion, something he never quite got used to. At his grin, Beck’s eyes widened and he took a step back. _Gotcha_.

“Thanks Karen!” Whatever Beck expected him to do, it wasn’t taking a running start to the right and leaping onto the building. He kept one eye on the man below as he climbed. To his distraction, Beck yelled, screaming at him to get down. Clearly the man realized where Peter was headed.

A gunshot went off below him and Peter nearly fell off the wall. He grabbed hold at the last second and looked down hurriedly, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. He told himself he was only worried about the hostages, but in the back of his mind he worried one of the police officers milling around the edges of the perimeter got a lucky shot at Beck. _He’s mine, for better or for worse._

When he saw where the shot had come from, he breathed a sigh of relief. Beck held the gun, hostage he’d been choking discarded, and it pointed at Peter as he climbed.

_Thank god, he didn’t kill anyone._

Peter knew he should be more concerned with being shot at, but if there was one thing he knew from his time as Beck’s kept boy, it was that Beck didn’t want to mortally hurt him. Not physically, anyway. He kept climbing, and eventually reached the level Karen indicated. With the half his vision blocking out holograms, he saw it hovering about twenty or thirty feet away from the building. 

He took a deep breath and steadied himself against the winds battering the building. Peter thought he could make the jump, but he wanted to give himself the best shot in case he miscalculated. With his strength, he’d easily launched himself further distances, but the winds were strong that high up and he didn’t know how much of a difference they would make.

“No! Don’t you dare!” The yell from the ground was incredibly loud for him to hear it, and he looked down to see Beck standing apart from the others and waving his fist at Peter. Peter gave the man one last jaunty wave and jumped, pushing away from the building.

Four agonizing seconds later he hit the drone bodily, grabbing hard and sticking through sheer force of will. It spun and fell, not anticipating the added weight of a human being. Whatever system controlled the flight pattern whirred, trying to compensate for the added mass and the momentum from his jump. It wasn’t enough, and the drone sank quickly towards the ground. Even with the rotors pumping away, it wasn’t enough. Peter knew if he hit pavement when the drone did, he wouldn’t walk away.

He pulsed his webshooters, pouring the sticky substance into the turbines and gumming up the rotors altogether. With the flight mechanism fully out of commission, the drone fell even faster. Peter knew he needed to get off the ride _now_. He shot a web towards the building he’d climbed to reach the thing and felt it catch.

With another web shot at an adjacent building, he had a good hold and he pulled, flipping off the drone before it crashed into the pavement below. Peter’s arms ached at the force of pulling himself out of freefall, but he held on, pulling himself upwards. Once he wasn’t immediately in danger, he shot a few more webs and gently swung back towards the center of the square, looping the area and landing fifty feet in front of Beck once again. The holograms guarding his hostages were gone, and the hostages took off as soon as Beck turned back to face Peter. Good.

The man still looked like the green goblin to Peter’s hologram-vision. Without it, Peter could see the generic suit he wore when he wanted to be all hologram-y, and wondered why he hadn’t reverted back to reality as well.

“Peter, he appears to have a personal hologram device on him.” Karen’s voice in his ear was calm, and he appreciated her matter-of-fact tone. “You can disable it, but you would have to fight him in close quarters to get a shot.” Peter shook his head, forgetting the other man could see him.

“No? What’s no, Spider-Man? Are you giving up? Letting me win?” Peter shook his head more forcefully at the other man.

“No way! I’m just, uh, saying you’ll never get away with this! I’ll expose you to everyone so they can see how much of a dick you are!” He let the anger creep into his voice, not bothering to hold it back. “Anyway, dumbass, I already won! I knew you used drones, it’s not that hard to disable them, so why even bother?” Peter knew the answer to that question already.

“You’re here, aren’t you? Itsy-bitsy spider, all _excited_ to find the fly.” Peter shivered; his feelings were decidedly mixed.

“Okay _Goblin,_ ” he paused, and the other man gave an acknowledging mod to show he understood and wouldn’t expose Peter in return, “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re not going to hurt anyone, and I’m going to arrest you. If you come quietly, I won’t have to web you up.” Beck did laugh at that, a surprised, uncalculating laugh. Peter hated that he liked the sound.

_If he ever catches me again, my ass is going to be_ mincemeat _._ A shiver that wasn’t quite fear made it’s way up his spine.

“Oh, I’m not going to hurt anyone? I’m not?” He swung around, one hand reaching behind him and grabbing onto thin air. As he turned, the man’s face went slack as he realized his hostages had fled. “Hmm, fine, I’ll give you that point.”

He unclipped something from his belt and held it up for Peter to see, backing away. “Either way, Spider, you’re letting me go, or else those lovely civilians over there-“ He gestured behind him, still backing away as he talked. “will get a nice taste of my grenades and you’ll be scraping them off the street.” Peter winced, keeping pace but not getting closer.

Without warning, Beck lobbed the grenade behind him and the crowd of onlookers just beyond the police barriers parted, trampling each other in their haste to get away. The grenade landed in an open patch, Peter noted with relief, and the blast was smaller than Karen’s projections indicated it could be. Beck threw five or six more grenades in quick succession, one at his own feet, and Peter barely had time to register his movement before the smoke obscured both Beck and the crowd around him.

“Shit! Karen, can you find a way for me to see through the smoke?” Smoke grenades were a favorite of the Goblin’s, and Peter should have expected Beck to have some of his own. For all Peter knew, Beck was friends with the real Goblin and had gotten them from him.

“I cannot get a visual for you, but I’m tracking the asshole and I can direct you through the smoke to follow him, if you want.” Peter hesitated. He knew Beck expected him to follow, hell most of New York probably expected him to follow, but he was wary of following blind. He trusted Karen to direct him but he didn’t know what he’d find when he reached him, or what kind of traps he’d run straight into. He had to decide quickly, however, and made his choice in a matter of seconds.

“Yeah, Karen, direct me.” She helpfully threw up a set of directions on his HUD, arrows pointing where he needed to go and highlighting solid objects that were only blurs in the smoke to him. “And can you find out where he’s going? I don’t want to run into a trap.” Peter set off, following her directions and skirting the people in the crowd that had been hit with the smoke bombs.

“I’m tracking him now, it appears he’s running without any destination in mind. His path is erratic, and he seems to be running in no discernable pattern.” Peter rolled his eyes and huffed, wondering what the man was up to. Before long he cleared the smoke, jogging down a side street a few blocks away. Karen kept up the HUD display, highlighting the path Beck took and his location in approximation to Peter.

“Peter, he appears to have stopped in an alley. I don’t have eyes on him, but I have cameras on either end of the alley and can let you know if he exits in either direction.” Peter skidded to a stop, half a block from Beck’s position.

“Shit.” He kept his eyes on the alley opening up ahead but didn’t move forward. “Uh, can you tell if there are any doors? Entrances or exits to the buildings on either side?” She was quiet for a long moment.

“According to all official plans filed with the city, there are no building exits into that alley. But boss, those aren’t always kept up to date, especially not when supervillains are concerned.” Peter screwed his eyes tight shut and pressed his hands to his face, trying to make up his mind.

“Yeah, I know. Shit. What’s the likelihood that he’d have a secret lair there or something else to trap me?” He dropped his hands again and started a careful walk towards the alley, not letting his eyes leave the entrance.

“Building records show both owned by legitimate companies, no fronts or shell corporations. Buildings leases are all above board too, as far as I can tell. EDITH did a double check of my findings and agrees with the assessment.” Peter slowed his pace further but didn’t stop walking, making his way carefully to the opening of the alley.

“Well, shit. What’s the likelihood of him forcing me to give him control of EDITH again?” A window popped up in his HUD and Peter split his attention between the bricks in front of him and the video. It showed Beck, flagging as he ran, from what appeared to be a security camera posted right above the store twenty feet back. In the grainy footage, the man looked out of breath, and he clutched his side as he ran.

“He’s either acting, or cannot run as far as you can, Peter. Based on the average human running speed and daily exercise level as compared to yours, it is likely he is unable to run much further.” Peter studied the looped video feed, trying to discern the man’s thoughts. He did look tired, like he needed somewhere to collapse for a moment before continuing on.

_But he knows I have control over the systems now, he knows I’ve got EDITH back. He’d have to know I’d find him._ Peter closed the video in his HUD and took a deep rattling breath.

“Okay. Okay Karen. So, here’s what I know. He’s just a guy, no magical or otherworldly powers. He probably can’t run as well as I can. He knows I have control over EDITH and could easily find him if he did something like this.” She was quiet, and he continued with only a slight hitch in his voice. “And, well, and I know he’s kind of obsessed with me. He kidnapped me, tortured me, and well, you know. Stuff. Anyway, he’s obsessed. So what are the chances he did whatever the hell this was and didn’t realize I would track him down, vs. the chances he’s thinking clearly and is ready to kidnap me again?” Peter wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer, but he knew he’d find out soon enough.

“I cannot calculate those odds, Peter, as there are too many variables. I’m sorry.” He shook his head.

“No, no it’s fine, Karen, thanks anyway. I was just, well, thinking out loud or something. Anyway, it doesn’t matter.” He steeled himself. “He threatened people, _hurt_ innocent people, and can’t get away with that. I’m going after him, even if it means walking into a trap. And the longer I stand here debating, the more time I give him to recover if he really was tired.” He clenched his fists and loosened them again. “Alright, keep watch, I’m headed in.” He straightened his back and walked towards the alley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are probably only a couple more chapters before I catch up with where I am, writing-wise, so be warned. I've got a couple more big bits done and then a bunch more outlined, but I'll probably end up moving to posting every few days, just so I can make sure I'm editing and stuff. I already went back through the earlier chapters and fixed a bunch of annoying writing things I hadn't caught before. 
> 
> Anyyyywayyy so who thinks it's a trap? Who thinks Beck was so obsessed with getting Peter back he threw on the first hologram he could find and went out to draw him out without thinking about what would happen if it didn't work? Mix of both? I wanna hear your predictions!


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm like, ridiculously proud of this chapter - I had to fully delete and rewrite it two or three times plus lots of editing but it's finally where I want it to be. Woo!

When Peter turned the corner, no henchmen waited to attack him. _Well, that’s one point to me, I guess._ He peered through the darkness of the alley, unable to discern Beck’s location immediately.

There were a fair number of large trash bins and other debris scattered around, and Peter stepped forward. His head twisted from side to side, keeping watch for anything suspicious, but he saw nothing. Once he passed the first dumpster, he noticed a figure slumped against the wall to his left. Beck panted heavily, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

_He even makes being out of breath attractive, how is that fair?_

The man stirred when he heard Peter’s footsteps, lifting his head. Peter held up one hand in the universal ‘halt’ gesture and the man’s hands left his knees, palms out, as he held them up placatingly. Peter wasn’t trapped yet, but he knew better than to trust anything his senses told him.

“Karen, set the suit’s filters to remove all holograms.” Both of his eyes switched to the slightly yellow filter, and Beck slid into uniformity in his hologram-ready suit.

Despite sill panting slightly, Beck gave Peter a slow once-over, letting his eyes cover every inch of Peters body. Peter, whose suit covered every inch of his skin, felt incredibly naked under the gaze.

“You looking for someone in particular, or just like hanging out in back alleys, spidey?” Beck’s slow grin drew him like a moth to flame and he took two steps before realizing. Peter dropped his hand, and Beck did the same. “Boys like you, you need to be careful, people might start _talking_.” He poured on the charm, and Peter hoped it meant he had no back up plans.

“Look, you just stay right there.” How he kept his voice from shaking he’d never know. Maybe it was the adrenaline. “I have EDITH back on my side, and she’ll drone strike you out of existence if you try anything.” The smile was back, and Peter didn’t like it _one bit_.

“Aww, come on, that’s no fun. Besides, you’ve had that power since you escaped. If you were going to do it, you would have done it already.” The man was right. Peter couldn’t kill someone in cold blood no matter the circumstances, but he was also drawn to the man in a way he couldn’t explain.

Beck continued. “You can’t kill me. You’ve had the power to end my life since the moment you took back control, and yet, here I am. Here you are.” Shit, shit _shit_. Peter knew this was a trap, but he expected henchmen and blow dart tranquilizers, not mind games. Especially mind games he’d played into so well.

“Shut. Up.” Beck laughed again, a dark chuckle this time. It _absolutely did not_ make Peter weak in the knees.

“I could, but what are you going to do? Arrest me?” Peter stamped his foot, knowing it was childish but unable to resist the temptation. The man got under his skin.

“Shut up, Beck, or so help me-“ Peter started, but Beck interrupted him before he got any more out.

“Oh please, go on. I’d love to hear what you’re going to do. You can’t kill me, and I can’t kill you.” He looked less than thrilled at the second statement, but it didn’t feel like a win to Peter.

“Just because you’ll get a fair trial doesn’t mean I don’t hate you. You’re an evil, lying, manipulative son of a bitch, and I will kick your ass into next week if you get any closer to me.” Peter was the one breathing heavily now. Beck, hands still raised a little, took a slow look between them. Peter blinked.

There was less than three feet between the two men, Beck still pressed against the wall. Which meant Peter was the one getting closer. He jumped backwards, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to get away. When he looked back at Beck, he found a sardonic look and a raised eyebrow. The man stayed against the wall.

“Look, Pete-“ Peter fired, missing the man’s head with the web by half an inch.

“Do. Not. Call. Me. That.” His voice was low, and he got the undercurrent of anger right this time. Beck’s eyes widened; he was scared for the first time.

“Okay, okay. _Spiderman_. I’m not your enemy here.” Peter huffed, rolling his eyes.

“You’re not? What do _you_ call someone who locks you up and tortures you for weeks?” He winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Before he could even start trying to correct him, that stupid grin was back and Beck straightened.

“Oh come on, now, torture? Yeah, I went a little overboard with the holograms, but it wasn’t _all_ bad, was it?” The man licked his lips and Peter’s own mouth felt suddenly dry. “I seem to recall you enjoying certain parts yourself.” Beck leaned forward and Peter realized he was closer to Beck than before, again. Shit. He leaned back, putting more space between them and Beck moved forward, closing the distance. He was within reach. 

Peter moved back again and tried for levity this time.

“Nuh-huh, you stay there, thanks. This here,“ -he gestured to the space between them- “this is the room we save for _Jesus_.” His back hit the opposite wall of the alley. Beck matched him step for step and loomed over him, crowding Peter’s space.

Peter knew he should move, but he couldn’t. Moving his legs, even looking away was impossible. Slowly, one of Beck’s hands came up to touch Peter’s neck where his mask connected with the rest of his suit. Beck didn’t pull off the mask right away, instead teasing the skin there with one finger.

Beck leaned in, his mouth at Peter’s ear. “Isn’t this what you really wanted, Peter? You _like_ this, being here, under me. You’ve been missing this since you left, isn’t that right?” Peter tried to shake his head no, he really did, but his body wouldn’t listen. He panted, trying to get air into his starving lungs. Beck’s fingers played along the lines of his suit, and in one quick motion the mask was off, leaving Peter nearly cheek to cheek with the other man.

“Hey-“ His voice cut off as lips pressed against his and Peter moaned into the kiss, hands wrapping around Beck’s shoulders. He pulled the man closer instead of pushing him away and felt warm bulk press him to the stone behind him.

A thigh wedged between his legs and they parted without his permission, letting Beck in. Hands ran up and down Peter’s flanks, not peeling the suit off - just touching. Peter felt every nerve ending catch fire and arched into the kiss. One hand fisted in Beck’s hair to pull him closer.

When Beck’s hands teased the hidden zippers of his suit, he broke the kiss, leaning back to stop his head spinning so he could think straight. A mistake, as it turned out. Freed of Peter’s mouth, Beck sank to his knees. His hands deftly unzipped and tugged at hidden fastenings and soon bared Peter’s dick to the cool air, pumping him.

Peter gripped Beck’s hair, needing something to ground him. Beck looked at him, complete with raised eyebrow, but didn’t protest the rough treatment. Instead, he leaned forward to lick along the head of Peter’s dick. Small kitten licks had Peter’s hips thrusting shallowly, needing more friction.

“Ah- fuck- I, I need,” Beck nodded, understanding when Peter couldn’t get the words out.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” He looked up, making eye contact with Peter before leaning down and licking solidly from base to tip and then dipping his head and swallowing him down.

Peter wasn’t sure, but he may have screamed. The man’s mouth, hot and so wet and tongue twirling expertly, sunk down on him. Peter felt like he was _dying_ ; he was going to die, right here in a grimy alley, and 100% okay with the outcome if Beck just _didn’t stop doing that_.

Peter’s hands fisted tightly in Beck’s hair which must have hurt like hell. The man didn’t complain, moving along Peter’s shaft in the same rhythmic movement. Hands rested on Peter’s hips, holding him gently but not stopping his thrusts.

One hand stayed on Peter’s hip, drawing soothing circles into the skin there; the other moved down Peter’s body, first gripping the base of his dick in time to the bobbing of Beck’s head, and then lower, gently squeezing his balls and playing with them. Peter was so lost to sensation that he didn’t realize Beck’s intention until fingers skirted his perineum, touching at the skin there.

Peter bucked, trying to mask it as an especially hard thrust, but Beck had realized. With a choked off inhale, the man didn’t stop, instead working harder, more intent on bringing Peter off than before. His fingers curled around the plug inside Peter, probing gently as he explored. Peter keened, needing more.

Beck’s careful fingers pushed and pulled, teasing the plug inside him and pressing up so it hit the spot that made Peter see sparks, then down so the largest part tugged at his rim, stretching him. That was it for Peter. His vision whited out, he made an awful noise halfway between scream and inhale and came into Beck’s waiting mouth. Beck didn’t stop, riding it out with him and pulling the plug from him in time with his mouth.

As Peter, dazed and confused, tried to come back to himself and reassess his grip on reality, Beck pulled off and licked gently before leaning back. Large warm hands rested on his hips, steadying while he caught his breath. Peter squeezed his eyes shut, trying and failing miserably to get a grip on himself.

“Fuck, Peter.” Beck’s voice was raw and the sound of it shot straight through him. The man sounded, well, he sounded like he just blew someone in an alley. “You’re still, you were _wearing it._ God, you have no idea what you do to me, you’re going to kill me.” Peter looked down and was heartened to see the man looked wrecked. His eyes were wide and he panted, a bulge in his pants making his interest clear as he absently rocked his hips into the air.

After a moment Beck came back to himself enough to carefully tuck Peter back into his suit, zipping him up almost tenderly. He placed the plug into a pocket, one hand covering it. When he pushed himself to his feet and stepped back, Peter reached out to catch his wrist.

“Wait!” He cringed at the way his voice sounded. “Wait, you can’t, I’m, no.” Beck gave him the start of a grin, still too affected for it to look proper. He only managed to look dirty and expectant. Peter found his voice, trying again. “No, I have to arrest you. I can’t let you go.” Before he could move, however, Beck once again pressed him against the wall. The hardness in his jeans rubbed against Peter’s stomach in a way that set his toes curling.

“Oh Peter, you’re way too much of a goodie two shoes. I’m going before you get your sea legs back, but don’t you worry.” He leaned in for a kiss, almost a peck really. “You say you’re not mine all you want, but you are. I’ll make sure you –and everyone else- knows it.” He was gone before Peter realized he’d moved. Peter looked around wildly, but Beck wasn’t visible in either direction.

He slumped back against the wall, uncaring how he looked. He was exhausted and confused.

“Did- did that really happen?” It sounded like his voice speaking, but he wasn’t sure. The whole thing felt like a very realistic fever dream, or maybe a hallucination. One thing he was sure was it wasn’t a hologram – he’d had enough experience with those to make him sure the way Beck’s body pressed against him was the real thing, all hard muscle and warm skin. Despite everything else, the man’s presence had a calming effect on Peter, quieting the anxiety in the back of his head continuously assessing.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I switched to using Scrivener from Word, so please let me know if there are any formatting issues, the adjustment is taking some time lol. As much as I love word for most writing things, I wanted to be able to see individual chapter wordcounts without highlighting everything, and it was getting too unmanageable in one document, even through the judicious use of headings and subheadings. Which is one of those things I'm wicked proud to complain about, I've almost never been able to stick with something this long, let alone still be super excited to write more of it. :)

Before moving Peter did one last sweep of the alley, checking to make sure nobody was looking. Confident of that, he pulled on his mask.

  
“Peter!” Karen’s voice was loud in his ears, and he winced, dreading the consequences of letting Beck cut his contact with the AIs. “Peter, are you okay?”

He waved one hand, trying to shoo her concerns away. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine Karen, I’m sorry for worrying you.” He winced. She’d been unable to talk to him, but she still had the readouts from the suit showing his heartrate. And other stuff. At least she couldn’t report it to Mr. Stark.

“Peter, I was so worried! I didn’t even know I was capable of worry like that! EDITH explained more of what happened when you were taken prisoner, but we didn’t know for sure what was going on without the mask cameras. Are you sure you’re alright? I got a lot of heightened responses from your suit monitors while your mask was off.” The naked concern in her voice made him squirm, feeling guilty. He shook his head.

“No, no I’m fine. I just, Beck, he. We talked. And other things. But I’m fine, really, I promise.” He sighed, a whoosh of air as he decided what to do next.

“If you say so.” She didn’t sound convinced, and he didn’t blame her – he wasn’t so convinced himself.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine for right now anyway. He didn’t hurt me.” He pushed off the wall and wobbled a little as his legs didn’t want to support his weight. It was a struggle, but he finally got there. “I should go back to Times Square, see if they need my help with the cleanup.” Superhero fights were one thing, and dealing with the fallout was another. Peter tried to help where he could, since other supers in the city often neglected cleanup and damage control.

“There are crews onsite now, and they treated all hostages for shock and other traumas.” Peter felt hot guilt bubbling at the back of his throat, reminded of the people Beck -the man who had just given him the best (only) blowjob of his life- traumatized not an hour before.

“Shit, shit. Yeah, I should go. Is there anything I can do? Anybody hurt that needs a quick swing to the hospital or anything like that?” He started walking in the direction he came from.

“Everyone requesting a hospital already left by ambulance, but there were no serious or life-threatening injuries.” Peter breathed out, the knot in his chest easing a tiny amount. “The cleanup crews dispatched could probably find something for you to help with, as there is a large amount of debris. But Peter, there’s something else.” He froze, then made himself keep walking towards the faint sounds of sirens.

“What is it?” She hesitated. He knew it wasn’t good, EDITH and Karen didn’t hesitate unless it was bad news.

“When I lost contact, I alerted Director Fury Beck may have attacked you.” Her voice was small, and Peter couldn’t be angry with her. “You said not to tell your aunt and friends, but Fury was not on that list. I was worried about you.”

“Shit.” She remained silent. “No, it’s fine, that was the right call. I didn’t know if it was a trap, and you lost contact. It was the right decision, even if it makes my life harder. Shit. I didn’t arrest him, or even fight him, really.” The reminder had him twitching, clenching reflexively in the smpty space where the plug had been. You’re mine. He felt like he was missing a piece of him. “What did Fury say?”

“He swore a lot and reached out to someone to track you down and make sure you’re alright.” Peter fought the urge to facepalm. “Judging from communications, it is not a SHIELD agent, likely a consultant, but I am unable to give you more information at this time about their identity.” Peter sighed and rubbed his face.

“Okay, well whenever they get here, I’ll let them know I’m fine and they can go. Can you tell May, Ned, and MJ I’m fine, and I’m helping with cleanup for a bit?” Karen affirmed the request.

“I let them know and they say okay, but they’re waiting up for you to get back.” He hadn’t really expected anything else. “And I’ve alerted Director Fury to your status, and that we’ll let his ‘reinforcements’ know you’re okay when they get here.”

“Thanks Karen, you’re the best.” Peter neared times square and straightened, trying to project confidence he didn’t have as he approached the first tangle of EMTs, police officers, and bystanders.  
One of the police officers saw him approach and turned.

“Spider-Man! We thought you were gone; you haven’t been in New York in months.” Peter nodded, glad the man couldn’t see his expression.

“I was dealing with some things, super stuff, you know?” He willed his voice not to crack while speaking, and mostly succeeded. The police officer didn’t look convinced but dropped the subject.

“Ah. Well, if you have time to help, we’ve got debris that needs moving. We don’t want to get a forklift out here with all of the excitement, it would be appreciated if you have the time.” Peter nodded, grateful for the easy acceptance of his lie.

“Yeah, just point me where to go.” He spent the next 40 minutes shifting chunks of concrete and rubble from the explosions, letting his strength do the work while he focused on the events of the afternoon. He couldn’t make sense of Beck’s actions, but then again, when had he ever?

Once the police officers let him know they were all set and thanked him for his help, he waved to the assembled crowd, doing a flip before slinging himself out of the square.

A few blocks away he slowed, settling into a leisurely pace towards his clothes and glasses. He’d almost forgotten Fury’s ‘reinforcements’; nobody showed while he cleaned up the aftermath of the explosions so he’d thought he might be in the clear. Now he felt eyes on him, and the feeling sent a shiver up his spine. Fucking spies, always so dramatic.

As he swung, he looked for the source of the feeling, but there was nothing out of the ordinary that he could see. The people below on the sidewalk all looked normal, and nobody peered out of high windows with sniper rifles or anything. He dropped to the sidewalk and did a slow turn, trying to pinpoint where the feeling came from.

He couldn’t narrow it down at all and moved on after a minute, walking this time. Taking a circuitous route, Peter walked down the street parallel to where he was going, not wanting to lead anyone back to his clothes hiding spot. The uncaring New York City crowds parted for him, nobody making eye contact with the weirdo dressed like Spiderman checking his back every three seconds. Thank god for New Yorkers not giving a shit.

Half a block down, a figure melted out of the shadows from underneath an awning to walk in step beside him. Peter almost yelped in surprise but cut it off at the last minute. He’d known someone was there, but the man moved like he’d walked beside Peter the whole time, blending seamlessly into the crowd.

Arm raised in case he needed to shoot a web at the man, Peter nodded, slanting his eyes towards the man. He stepped into an inlet formed by a doorway, and out of the flow of people in the afternoon sun. The man, hood still pulled up, followed, stopping just far enough away that Peter’s senses registered him as nonthreatening.

If he took another step, however, Peter was ready to web the man’s head to the wall behind him. He raised his arm and opened his mouth to say exactly that when a wrist snapped up and grabbed his own, twisting so it pointed at the sky.

“Hey, quit it, I’m on your side.” The voice was low and rough, the words ground out close to Peter’s ear. Too close. His breathing sped up and he took in the position they were in, his wrist in an unnaturally strong grip and strong legs forcing him backwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I swear I had a plan. And that plan immediately went entirely off the rails as soon as this (mystery!) character came into play. So prepare for like 4k of words I didn't anticipate and a new main-ish character in tomorrow's update. I'm gonna mostly stick to the outline I had before, but this character was supposed to be a much smaller character originally. He took over lol, it's not my fault.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a plan, and this is not my plan. The characters are now just doing what they want with no regard to what I wanted them to do. Oh well, at least I appreciate where they're headed.
> 
> Slight warning - although if you've made it this far, you probably don't need it. I guess this is more so I don't get people telling me I'm wrong. The age of consent is mentioned in this chapter, nothing happens other than Peter mentioning it to himself. He incorrectly believes the age of consent is 18, it's actually 17 in NY but I aged him up to 18 to avoid some ick factor. Basically, he's 20-something-year-old Tom Holland in my brain at all times.

Peter wrenched his arm free, breaking the grip. The man swore as he let Peter go, nearly off balance at the strength behind Peter’s frantic movement. Peter went flying, landed on his already tender ass, and scrambled backward, out of range. He felt the beginning of panic and put distance between them, unwilling or unable to listen to the man.

For his part, the guy realized what he’d done and raised his hands, showing empty palms and not getting closer to Peter.

“Shit, sorry, my bad.” His gesture reminded Peter of Beck doing the same thing before he’d backed Peter into a wall. That had been less panic-inducing, though. Luckily nobody walking past on the sidewalk cared about them, and they were left alone in their little bubble.

Peter forced the panic back inch by inch, getting back his tenuous grip on reality. The feeling of the rough sidewalk under his palms and the shrub brushing his hair helped. Before too much longer, he could take in the full appearance of the man and assess threat levels. The man’s hair was knotted high on his head, his eyes were sharp but wary, and under the too-long sleeves of the ratty sweatshirt Peter saw a glint of metal.

“I- I know you.” The man nodded, lowering his hands.

“Yeah. We only met the one time. And I guess technically quite a few years ago now, even if it feels like less to me.” Peter nodded, taking the information in. He stood, trying to remember more about him.

All at once it came back to him and the memory hurt like a physical blow.

_Cool arm, man, is that made of metal?_

He held out his hand, this one made of flesh and blood, for Peter to shake. A peace offering. “James Buchanan Barnes. Most people call me Bucky, though.” Shit.

The first thing Peter thought probably not the most tactful, but he’d been through a lot in the last week.

“You work for Fury now? I thought when I said I wanted my vacation he said nobody else was available? I had to save the world. Again.” He wasn’t pouting, really, even if his tone was a little petulant. Barnes flinched.

Barnes looked up and down the street. Nobody was looking at them, but there were enough people nearby that the man hesitated to answer. Peter understood the hesitance.

“I’m sorry. I can explain where I was, but maybe not here?” Peter shrugged his agreement, considering.

“I don’t feel like going back to SHIELD, and I’m not taking you to my safe house. Not right now anyway.” Peter knew the man was an ally, but he wasn’t taking any chances with the safety of his family. Speaking of which, “Karen, can you let the others know I might be later than I originally thought? Tell them it’s nothing wrong, just caught up with something. Don’t give them specifics.” She affirmed in his ear. “Thanks.”

Barnes didn’t comment on the aside. “I’ve got a place nearby, SHIELD put me up until I figure my shit out. I just got back to the States a few days ago.” He turned and started walking, not checking to see if Peter followed. Peter rolled his eyes _-the dramatics of superheroes, I swear to god-_ but followed the other man.

He left a few feet between them and kept sharp watch on the man, looking for signs of subterfuge. He wouldn’t find any, assassin and all that, but he trusted the senses that alerted him to the man’s presence in the first place.

It was a short but awkward walk to a nondescript brownstone building, and Barnes punched in a code on a modern looking keypad, opening the door. He gestured for Peter to go ahead of him. Peter did, keeping his eyes wide and taking in the exits in case he had to run for it.

Opening the first door on the left, Barnes nodded and let Peter enter first, waiting a moment before following so as not to crowd him. Peter appreciated the gesture.

The apartment was small and bleak, but clean. Everything in it was years past needing to be replaced. Peter took everything in, noting the lack of personal effects apart from a couple pieces of art leaning against one wall. They were beautiful, colored in vibrant hues that completely clashed with the brown carpet and off-white walls.

Peter sat on the couch, eyes not leaving Barnes as he took the chair opposite. The man inclined his head, giving Peter his attention.

“I don’t know how much you know about me, but I’ll start a little further back just in case. I fell off a train in the 40s, got captured by Hydra, experimented on and was eventually forced to be an assassin for them. Until recently.” He talked in a flat voice, eyes never wavering from their spot on the carpet a few feet in front of Peter.

“Pfft,” Bucky looked up at Peter’s sound of disgust, confused. Peter waved a hand at him. “Yeah yeah, I know, finish your story, but just gotta say- Trains? Trains can suck it.” Bucky smirked for a moment before schooling his face back to neutral.

“Yeah. Shit happened and I got out, got myself halfway around the world before getting framed for murder. One I didn’t do, this time. That was just before we met at that airport.” He took a breath. “I had these triggers in my head, words to make me a weapon again, and no way to deprogram them. Steve said they’d get rid of them, and the king of Wakanda, T’Challa, he’s got some of the best scientists in the world. They helped me.”

Bucky smiled a little when he talked about Wakanda, and Peter felt begrudgingly sorry for the man. “Anyway, I was halfway done with that when everything happened with Thanos, and I got- I got snapped, so I just got back a few months ago. Once all the fighting finished, and everything else was done with, I told Fury to fuck off and not bother me until I finished getting my head on straight.” He offered Peter another half-smile, wry and rueful.

“I guess I got so used to Stevie pulling me into all his dumbass schemes whether I wanted to or not, I figured Fury’d ask for my help before too long anyway. I went back to Wakanda and got that poison out of my brain first thing, so I couldn’t hurt anyone else.

“It’s done, and I’m here now, for better or for worse. Not that I have a clue where I go from here, waking up in a different century with a skillset I’ve got no use for and my best friend leaving right after I found him again.” He bit off the words, tone clipped and sharp, and scrubbed his hands over his face. His body language changed as he’d talked, and he slumped forward, forehead pressed against his knuckles.

Peter hated how much he felt for the man in that instant. He had his own problems to deal with, but here he was here feeling sorry for someone who tried to kill him. _Well, it’s not the first time that’s happened._

“Hey, Mr. Barnes. It’s okay. I’m not- I wasn’t mad at you for not helping me.” Barnes looked up at him again. “I know I said- but it’s not, that was nobody’s fault but my own.”

He didn’t look convinced, but Peter barreled through, deflecting potential arguments by not giving the man time to talk. “And I’m glad you got those triggers out of your head. Mr. Stark-“ they both flinched slightly at the reminder, “he told me a little about you, said you were there because Captain America’s a dumbass and does whatever he feels like.”

Peter realized insulting the best friend of a murdery assassin might not be the best idea after the words left his mouth, but the man just gave him another wry grin, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, Steve’s an idiot. He was like that way before he was Captain America though.” Peter gave him a tentative smile. “He just, he thought he was right. I guess. He does that a lot.” The smile dropped off his face and he frowned again, thinking.

Barnes’ voice was softer now. “I should have helped him, but I he’ll be better off without me, you know? I’m not a good person, triggers or no triggers, and I don’t blame him for wanting a life without me hanging on.” He scuffed his boot into the carpet, not looking at Peter anymore.

Peter’s heart hurt at the sight. How could such a large, deadly man look so much like a wet kitten? And he wasn’t even doing it on purpose, Peter felt like he’d know if it was a trick. The man oozed misery and couldn’t hide it.

“Hey, uh, Mr. Barnes? Sargent Barnes?” That got a laugh Peter didn’t try to interpret. “You’re not a monster, and I can’t say I know what he was thinking when he decided to, to leave or whatever.” Peter heard something about a new Captain America, but he was busy with other things and hadn’t seen much about it since. “But yeah, thanks for explaining why you weren’t here when Fury told me I had to leave my school trip to save the world. Again.” He didn’t try to hide the annoyance in his voice. It wasn’t aimed at Barnes.

Peter continued. “Getting rid of the dangerous stuff in your head was important. So, thanks I guess, for fixing it, and for wanting to be better.” Peter trailed off awkwardly and tried to scratch at the back of his neck only to be blocked by the mask of his suit.  
He sighed. _If I’m already outed to everyone else in the super community, villains included, I might as well be comfy._ Peter pulled off the mask, shaking his head to fix his mask hair before looking back to Barnes. Who stared in undisguised confusion.

“What- why- what? How old are you, kid?” Peter blinked. He didn’t expect that.

“Uh, eighteen I guess. My birthday is August tenth, so yeah, I guess I’m eighteen.” He hadn’t remembered at the time but counting backwards from today’s date meant he turned 18 in Beck’s custody. At that thought, he fought back either a hysterical laugh or vomit at the thought of Beck waiting until he was _legal_ in the state of New York to fuck him through the mattress. Peter clamped a hand over his mouth to make sure neither came out, just in case. Barnes assessed him critically.

“Jesus, you’re just a kid. I can’t believe Fury sent you out, let you get kidnapped.” Peter shook his head before the man finished speaking.

“I’m young, yeah, but I’m tougher than I look, and I’ve been doing this for a while. If I can help, I have to, he knows that.” Barnes cast his eyes toward the ceiling like he was praying for patience.

“How did I get stuck with another one? Steve was bad enough.” Peter bristled at the comparison.

“Hey, I’m nothing like him!” Most people would be flattered by the comparison, but Peter knew more about the man than most. “He’s a dick, and he hurt Mr. Stark. Really badly. I would never do that to anyone, _especially_ someone I considered a friend.” Barnes flinched, avoiding eye contact.

“I hurt him too. You should hate me for what I did to him, leaving him in Siberia. I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” Peter rolled his eyes and stood, pacing.

“I’m not talking about that, you idiot.” The name calling might be childish, but it snapped Barnes out of his own self-recriminations a little. “I’m talking about the way he acted, he hurt Mr. Stark’s feelings.

“They were friends, and he threw all of that away, he basically came right out and said you meant more to him than their friendship.” Peter was really going now. “And despite that, Mr. Stark wanted to help you too! And The Great Captain America lied to him. About you, about his parents, about everything. And he never said sorry, not really.”

Peter took a deep breath and continued. “And I guess a lot happened while we were gone, or snapped, or blipped or whatever, but still. They did so much to get everyone back, and then what?” Bucky was vaguely green like he wanted Peter to stop, but Peter couldn’t. All of the things he kept bottled up, things he couldn’t talk about with anyone kept pouring out of him.

“Mr. Stark _died_ , he died saving the world _again_. And the Great Captain America? He fucked off, leaving you here! That’s bullshit. He talks a lot of shit about being loyal but really he’s just a bad friend. He deserted everyone that ever cared about him. I am _nothing like him_.” He was panting now, almost out of breath. He realized he was yelling and tried to calm himself, breathing slowly in and out. “I won’t abandon my friends.” He met Bucky’s eyes, and saw something he couldn’t name in them. Peter stopped moving, and they stood for a moment, looking at each other.

Bucky broke first, looking away with a suspicious sniff. “Th- thanks. For saying that. You’re not much like him, not like he was in this century anyway. But maybe way back, the skinny moron getting beaten up in back alleys because he hated seeing bullies picking on the smaller kids? That’s who you remind me of.” Peter shrugged.

“I can live with that, I guess.” He got a smile and leaned awkwardly on the armrest of the couch. “What are you planning to do now, anyway?”

The question seemed to startle Barnes. “What do you mean?” Peter rolled his eyes.

“What are you going to do with your life? Fury sent you to check on me, do you work for SHIELD? Or were you going to, I don’t know, do something else? Get a job, go to school, travel for non-assassination related things?” Bucky looked lost.

“I don’t know. I’ve only been back for a few days, SHIELD said I could use the apartment until I figured it out. Fury texted me to ask if I could check on you, he was worried but didn’t say much more. He probably thinks we could help each other; he’s always meddling.” Peter snorted. For a scary assassin, Fury really was a mother hen when he thought nobody was looking. “But I don’t know. It’s not like there are many jobs for washed-up ex-assassins with no schooling, no money and no papers.” He looked even more lost now, and Peter sighed, rubbing at his face.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Peter said, “but do you want to stay with me?”

Bucky looked up sharply, surprised and wary. “What?” Peter scrubbed a hand over his own eyes and didn’t see the look the other man was giving him.

“Look, I- we- I get it. I understand being held against your will, I’m still wrapping my head around my own shit but I do get it. I just think you’re not getting anywhere living here. This isn’t _living_.“ He looked around the apartment and wrinkled his nose. “And you need to be around people.” Bucky shook his head.

“No, the _last_ thing I need is to be around people.” He insisted. “Or, well, people don’t need to be around me, in any case. I’m dangerous, even if I don’t have those damn trigger words in my head.” He didn't disagree with Peter’s suggestion, Peter noticed. 

“Being around good people, _good_ people that check in with you and make sure you’re doing alright and eating and stuff, that’s so important. If I didn’t have my aunt and Ned and MJ, I’d be so much worse right now. I need them. And you need people like that too. I’d be willing to share until you get some good people of your own.” Peter rolled his eyes at himself, throwing his hands into the air. “Hell, I’m pretty sure Aunt May will take one look and adopt you herself.”

Bucky watched him as he paced, eyes following the movement like a hawk.

“So, yeah. I don’t know, come stay with us for a few days.” Peter frowned, thinking. “We’re staying in a safe house that belonged to- to Mr. Stark, because of everything that happened with- with everything. But there’s food and stuff, and honestly I’d feel better with you watching them if I’m not there, since I don’t know what Mysterio is planning.” He caught himself at the last second, almost saying the man’s real name. He frowned as he thought over the implications of that. _Why didn’t I want to call him Beck? Because I’m worried about his secret identity? Because if I out him publicly he’d probably do the same to me?_ Peter shook off the thought and turned to Barnes.

The man gaped at him in open-mouthed shock. He looked stunned. Finally, he closed his mouth (by using one hand to close it manually, but it still counted) and then opened it again, trying to speak but finding no words at first.“Wh- how- what?”

Peter looked at him quizzically. “What, what? Was that too much? I’m not like, propositioning you, although we only have the four bedrooms right now so I’m not sure who takes the couch. I guess I could share with MJ or Ned, although Aunt May probably has something to say about that.” Peter was babbling and shut his own mouth with an audible snap. “Sorry, I talk when I’m nervous.” He shuffled his feet. After a few more moments, Barnes finally found the words he wanted.

“You- you want me, to come home, with you. To a safehouse you’re staying at that belonged to Tony Stark. Because you’re worried I don’t have people around. And you think I’ll protect your loved ones if you can’t. And you’re still on the run from someone who, according to Fury, kidnapped you and tortured you so much he’s surprised you’re standing upright, let alone also protecting your friends and family.” Bucky said the questions like statements, in a flat disbelieving tone of voice that suggested Peter either bewildered or possibly mortally offended the man. He really hoped it wasn’t the second one.

“Uh, yeah, I mean. If you don’t want to I’m not going to make you, I just thought you could use a friend, you know? And my aunt and my friends, they’re good people but they do get to be a bit much, so I’d understand if you didn’t want to, that is, I mean,” He floundered, hoping the man would just put a bullet in his skull and get it over with.

Instead of shooting him, however, Barnes looked up at him with such an expression of fear and naked need that Peter nearly flinched. Barnes’ voice, when he finally got hold of it, was barely a croak. “That’s more trust than I’ve gotten, far back as I can remember. The memories before I belonged to HYDRA comes in bits and pieces, but well. You’re offering-“ He stopped, unable to continue talking. Peter finally understood the other man’s problem and offered him a small smile.

“I’m not worried about you, no. Not any more than I would be about anyone, really, but that’s not gonna be fixed anytime soon.” Peter’s smile took on the kind of grim truth he’d been forced to live time and time again. “I’m more worried about what I might do to them, actually, if I get mixed up and think I’m back there. You're one of only a few people that could pin me if I attacked them, keep me from doing more damage.” Bucky looked grim, but not horrified like Peter expected. Then again, he’d been HYDRA’s prisoner for seventy years, so he probably understood a thing or two.

Peter shook his head, breaking himself out of his thoughts. “But uhm, yeah. I’m nothing but happy if you want to come back with me, figure yourself out.” He offered a hand to Barnes, who still looked a little confused at Peter’s easy acceptance of everything he was, but took it, shaking.

“Yeah, okay. I think I’d like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I definitely got a bit rant-y, whoops. I just, I really love me some Bucky Barnes and want him to be okay. Since we've got no clue where he was during the events of FFH, I made him some backstory. 
> 
> Question time - so I've got a couple more chapters nearly finished, and as it turns out, I'm a sucker for Peter Parker and hot scruffy older men. If this ends up being Peter/Bucky/Mysterio or both Peter/Bucky and Peter/Mysterio would anyone have a huge problem? As it is I'm leaning towards like 'slow burn, healing dick' for Bucky/Peter but you know Peter isn't going to be free of Beck's influence any time soon and he's gonna hide that as long as humanly possible, while somehow still getting trapped in sexual situations with the man. Buuuuttt if everyone is like 'ick no don't do that' I would probably end up making it good friendship and just a crush on Peter's side. Because seriously, Bucky Barnes. Unf.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all are seriously the bestest ever and I'm like gonna cry at the sheer number of people commenting to let me know what they want to see happen with Bucky. I read each and every one and I have made up my mind to be absolutely confused and not totally sure where I want to go with it lol. As it is, I'm going to keep going and see where the characters end up. I promise if anything happens between Peter and Bucky, it'll be long long in the future and not without serious consideration on both sides. I'm also seriously considering just writing two diverging plots but that would be a long way off. 
> 
> Buuuttt that doesn't mean Peter won't have a crush, and *certain things* won't happen, just no relationship right now. Peter is still Very Fucked Up from Beck and needs to work through a looottt of shit before he's ready to do anything with anyone, and if he ends up banging anyone else I want it to be mutually consenting and all that jazz. Which, like, sounds a little ridiculous when you consider where this started, but eh. And he's definitely gonna have lots and lots more sex with Beck, in case that's not clear. I have plans. I swear those ones aren't getting derailed.

Barnes - _Call me Bucky, kid, it’s my name_ \- didn’t have much to pack. His worldly belongings amounted to a backpack he strapped on, a duffel bag Peter watched him shove two sets of clothes into, and the paintings leaning against the wall. He offered Peter the choice to carry the duffel or the paintings and Peter opted for the duffel since he needed to climb. Bucky shrugged and picked the colorful paintings up, holding one in each hand, and gestured for Peter to go first. 

Peter tugged on his mask and hoisted the duffel, checking the peephole before exiting the apartment. Seeing nobody there, he pushed his way out the door to the building and onto the sidewalk where the sun had sunk considerably and the shadows were lengthening. 

“Hello, Peter. Shall I notify your aunt and friends that you’re on your way back now?” Karen’s voice was calm, and he gave her his best grin. 

“Uh, yeah, thanks Karen. I’ve got to stop and grab my clothes and glasses but let them know I’ll be back soon. And can you tell them to expect five for dinner?” She affirmed, and he set off after checking Bucky was following. 

It was only a few more blocks to the alley he’d stashed his clothes in, and they made the trek without problems. Peter only hesitated at the mouth of the alley for a moment before pushing through his anxiety. He didn’t want to show the weakness, even if he trusted Bucky enough to bring him home. It was a different kind of weakness, not the bubbling fear just under his skin but the neediness, the longing for someone he had _no business_ needing in his life. Peter had a lot to unpack in terms of what he went through, but for the moment he shoved it all down and stamped on it, pushing it away as he entered the alleyway. 

Bucky followed obediently and Peter set the duffel at his feet to retrieve his own backpack. Tugging off the mask, he slipped his clothes on over the suit and fitted the glasses onto his face. EDITH’s voice greeted him, letting him know Karen passed along the relevant information from his time in the suit. 

Peter thanked her for the update and turned back to Bucky who was alternating his gaze between Peter and the wall he scaled to retrieve his suit. Peter gave him a small smile, and picked up the duffel. 

“If you pick the way to get superpowers, bitten by a radioactive spider is definitely the way to go. I got some pretty sweet perks out of the deal.” Bucky smiled, taking the information in stride. 

“Well, clearly. I went the Nazi route which was about as one star as it gets, but spider powers, that seems pretty great. How strong are you, anyway?” Peter led the way towards the safe house, chatting about superpowers the entire way. He almost forgot everything and pretended he was a normal guy talking with a new friend. Almost. Both his and Bucky’s smiles were a little too bright, and he knew what they were thinking. 

Peter was second-guessing his decision, and he knew Bucky did the same. They’d only met the once before, on opposite sides of the battlefield, and here he was inviting the man into his home. Into his life. Technically Bucky was at the battle with Thanos as well, but he hadn’t seen him in the aftermath, and Peter didn’t love thinking about that time. It hurt too much the first time, but with Beck’s holograms so fresh in his mind it was almost worse now. 

When he finally stopped in front of the stairs to the apartment he shared with May, MJ, and Ned, Peter shuffled the bags in his arms to get an arm free to open the door. Before he could, it opened from the inside and then May’s arms were around him, hugging tightly. 

“Peter, oh my god, you’re alright.” He nearly fell over and only kept upright with his super-balance, shifting his weight and planting a foot back to brace himself. After a few moments, May pulled back and he saw tear tracks on her face, although she wiped hurriedly at them and offered him an embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry, you probably think it’s stupid but I had trouble believing you were really alright. Your AI, EDITH, assured me but without you here, and after watching your fight on the news, I had to see you to believe it.” He nodded and pulled her in for another tight embrace. 

Once they let go, May turned to Bucky who stood to one side, looking confused and awkward and like he wanted to run. She offered him an equally embarrassed smile and extended a hand to him. 

“I’m sorry, that was really impolite. Peter said you were coming, I’m May, his aunt.” Bucky took the hand and shook, putting the paintings down momentarily so he had a hand free. 

“Bucky Barnes, ma’am, nice to meet you.” His tone was light and he offered her a charming smile before blinking and coming back to himself, confused at the effortless manners. “Any- anyway, yeah, Peter said, well, he said a lot of stuff, but somehow convinced me to come back with him.” He shot a ‘help me’ look at Peter, who couldn’t help but laugh at his aunt turning a deadly assassin into a deer in headlights. May didn’t miss the interaction, but tactfully ignored it in favor of taking one of the paintings out of Bucky’s hands. 

“These are beautiful! Here, I can help carry. I might not be as strong as you boys, but I can carry a painting.” Peter and Bucky followed her inside, where Ned and MJ waited for them. Ned looked like he recognized Bucky but was overcome with a fit of poking MJ and making spluttering noises and MJ, for her part, gave Bucky the same affected boredom she gave the rest of the world. For Peter, she had a small smile and a touch to the shoulder, which grounded him after the events of the day. 

May led them through to the kitchen, where it was clear she’d cooked. The burned remains of whatever it was sat in a pot on the stove. Peter looked at the now ruined pot and shrugged, not too concerned with whatever she’d wasted trying. At least they had money for food for the moment. 

“EDITH didn’t have many details for us when she passed on Peter’s message, is there anything we should know? Allergies, pronouns, things like that?” Bucky again sported the look of bewilderment but shook his head in the face of May’s good natured interrogation. 

“No, ma’am, no allergies or anything like that. Pronouns? I’m not- I don’t understand.” May set the painting she carried down, leaning it against a cabinet. She turned to face him. 

“Pronouns, like, do you want to be called ‘he’ when you’re referred to in conversation? Some of Peter’s friends from school have pronouns they prefer; I try to ask whenever he brings people home.” She took the other painting from Bucky, leaning it next to the first. She inspected them carefully, taking in the image they made. “These really are beautiful, by the way, the colors are so bright. Obviously we don’t have to hang them up here if you don’t want, but we’ve got the space for them.” She gestured haphazardly at one of the two living rooms, and Bucky’s gaze followed the movement. He’d moved so his back wasn’t to the door when they entered the room, and he poked his head in the living room, assessing the space when she offered. 

“I don’t really know, ma’am, I just got back from Wakanda, that’s where I got them. I’m sure they’ll be fine wherever they’re hung up.” He shuffled his feet. “And uh, he is fine for pronouns, I’ve never been asked that before. Thanks.” 

She gave him a glance and a nod. “Alright, he it is. And stop calling me ma’am, you’re making me feel old. You can’t be that much younger than I am, call me May.” Peter stuffed his fist in his mouth to keep from laughing out loud, and judging by the glare he got from May, he didn’t do a very good job. “Peter Parker, what is so funny? You’re laughing at how old I am?” He shook his head, the tension of the day draining from him further at the familiar teasing. 

“No, just, just had a funny thought, it was dumb. Not laughing at you.” She let it be. 

Bucky wasn’t as content to let the family dynamics play out as Peter. He turned to May, eyes earnest, and Peter could see how desperately the man already wanted this to be his life. “Ma’am-May, sorry, there’s something you should know before you let me into your home. I’m not, I’ve made a lot of mistakes, done bad things, and I’ve hurt a lot of people. If you want me to leave I’d understand.” Peter knew his aunt and wasn’t disappointed when she turned to face Bucky fully, hands on her hips. 

“Now you listen here. Peter says you’re okay, and I trust him. If he’s comfortable with you being here, I won’t hear anything against you, not even from you. We’re all trying to make our own way through everything that’s happened in the last year or six, and sometimes that means leaning on family when you can.” Bucky cringed away from the reprimand, but May didn’t let him get far. “If you want to talk about what’s happened to you, you’re more than welcome to talk freely with me. But if you just want someone to confess your sins to, who will say you’re a bad person and validate you beating yourself up? I’m not willing to be that person, do you understand?” Bucky nodded mutely, unable to speak. Everyone was silent for long moments. 

MJ cut through the emotions filling the room with her usual drawl. “If you’re all done, can we order Chinese food? I don’t think that’s edible.” She pointed at the stove and May sighed. 

“Yeah, Chinese sounds good. Anyone craving anything in particular?” 

They got through the process of picking out and ordering food without much hassle, and Bucky surprised everyone (including himself) by speaking mandarin fluently and taking over the conversation from May, who had the restaurant on speaker. He ended the conversation with what sounded like a ‘thanks’ to Peter’s ear and smiled a little as he put the phone back in it’s cradle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for lots and lots of fluffy nonsense, I have more angst planned but Peter Parker needs one good day in his life first. Weeeelllllllll maybe less than a full day.


	19. Chapter 19

May shepherded them all into one of the living rooms, pushing them onto the couches as they waited for the food. She wasn’t a great cook but she made a mean cup of tea, and her favorite tea was among the groceries EDITH picked out. Peter didn’t want to know how EDITH knew his aunt’s favorite brand, so he just held his mug close to his chest while she fixed tea for everyone else.

Bucky sat across from Peter holding his own mug like a bomb that might explode. It was a novelty thing, shaped like one of the hulk’s fists and bright green - Mr. Stark loved silly Avengers things, especially since the proceeds from Avengers branded stuff went towards rebuilding efforts. May’s speech had left Bucky subdued, and he mostly stared at the action as everyone moved and debated over mu shu pork and General Tso’s. When the mug was pushed into his hands he accepted it gracefully and sipped distractedly.

Ned sat next to Peter on one side and MJ on the other, creating a barrier. He was grateful for the small reprieve and spread his arms out, brushing his friends’. The feeling of their skin, real and there, helped. He didn’t know what the events of the afternoon meant, but being home helped him face the thoughts swirling around his head.

_Beck won’t give up on getting me back. He’ll keep coming after me, and nobody in my life is safe until he’s put away._

Peter didn’t know how to deal with the threat, EDITH could wipe the man off the map but there was a not insignificant piece of Peter that wanted the man to be okay. He wanted something more from him.

_You say you’re not mine all you want, but you are. I’ll make sure you –and everyone else- knows it._

He shivered, the man’s words affected him even now. Beck had also taken the plug with him _-Leave it in you until I take it out-_ and Peter felt open and exposed without it. He didn’t want to want Beck, but his body was addicted and Peter had no control over himself when he was near him.

“-anyway, what happened this afternoon, Peter?” May’s voice drew him out of his internal turmoil, and he looked up to find everyone looking back at him.

“Huh?”

MJ rolled her eyes and elbowed him. “Your aunt asked what happened this afternoon, with the asshole.” Peter blinked at her.

Ned turned so he faced Peter even more. “Yeah! Did you guys fight, or something? I bet you totally kicked his ass.” Peter choked a little and turned red, he hoped it wasn’t as obvious to them as it felt.

“No, I uh- I ran after him but he got away. I mean, I caught up to him but he-“ the image of Beck on his knees came to his mind unbidden, “-we talked, he threatened me, and then disarmed me so he could get away. Nothing crazy, or anything. I’ll get him next time.” They all accepted his answer, nodding.

“Well, I’m sure you will. And Fury believed you today, so SHIELD won’t help him anymore, either?” May was so hopeful. Peter didn’t want to lie to her, but he also didn’t want to tell her the truth.

“He said he believed me, but he said they can’t do a whole lot. Yes, they’ll help where they can, but he’s a hero. They can’t just assassinate him or whatever, because it looks bad, so they have to prove he’s not a good guy.” Peter took a breath, looking around. “And Fury said I have to testify if I want him arrested for kidnapping me. I don’t want to, I can’t risk everyone finding out who I am.”

“If you want him assassinated, just say the word.” Bucky hadn’t been part of the conversation and Peter nearly forgot he was there, leaning forward on the other sofa. After a beat, the others laughed and Bucky smiled wide like it was a joke, but Peter caught the steady look the other man sent him.

“No!” His voice was too loud as he answered. “No, no assassination, he gets a fair trial, same as everyone. Otherwise we’re as bad as he is.” Bucky nodded and went back to his tea. Peter reached out and put a hand on the other man’s knee. “But- thanks, for the offer.” He smiled at Bucky and got a very small one in return.

They talked about nothing for a while, going over the events of the day and other things, like Sam, the new Captain America who Bucky knew but didn’t get along with. Peter listened with half an ear, and when the doorbell chimed to let them know their food was there Peter was the second person on his feet, after Bucky.

None of the others tried to help, given how Peter reacted the previous night, and he gestured to Bucky to sit as well. Bucky stayed on his feet and Peter rolled his eyes but didn’t stop him. They made their way to the door and Peter checked through the peephole before nodding. Bucky opened the door so Peter could take the food from the confused delivery guy, sign, and step back, and Bucky slammed the door. It took all of three seconds, their movements perfectly coordinated.

Peter, hot food in his hands wafting up delicious smells, shot a look at Bucky and saw an appraising look of his own from the man.

“Food’s here!” He walked back into the kitchen and set the bags down, opening them and setting out the dishes. May and the others were there already, grabbing silverware and plates from various drawers. Before long, they all sat munching happily.

After dinner, Peter knew they needed to figure out the bedroom situation. Once he finished eating, he rinsed his plate and put it in the dishwasher while he thought about the best approach. He turned back to the others, who were all mostly done as well.

“Okay, so. We should probably talk about plans for the next few days. I told Bucky he could stay as long as he needs,” Bucky flushed red and looked down, not making eye contact, “so he should probably get an actual bed out of that deal.” May nodded but looked concerned still.

“Not that I’m not glad to have him, Peter,” she turned to Bucky and offered him a smile before turning back to Peter, “but how are we doing this? I’d rather nobody takes the couch, and I don’t know if sharing would be a good idea.” She looked from Peter to MJ to Ned and back again. Peter knew May knew about his crush on MJ but didn’t want to explain it was more familial love than romantic now. He also _really_ didn’t want to explain how she stayed part of the night in his room already.

Bucky cleared his throat and half raised his hand. “I uh, if Peter doesn’t mind,” he cut a look to Peter who nodded eagerly, “I was hoping I could share with him, I can take the floor or whatever. I just- I get nightmares sometimes, and he’s probably the best one to deal with it if I end up taking a swing or something.” May’s expression softened and she made an aborted move to reach out towards Bucky. Peter understood the feeling.

“That would be great actually, I was worried about the same thing. But you don’t need to sleep on the floor though – it’s a huge bed, I don’t think Tony owned anything smaller than a king so we both have plenty of room.” Bucky nodded and flashed him a grateful smile.

May clapped brightly, beaming at them both. “Well, that’s settled then. Now, who wants fortune cookies?” She handed them each one and Peter took his but didn’t crack it open immediately. He didn’t want to know his fortune, fake or not. May made a ‘shoo’ing motion and he rolled his eyes but cracked the shell.

[ People are naturally attracted to you. ]

He huffed and threw it on the table, rolling his eyes. _Yeah no shit, thanks you stupid cookie._ He was well aware of that fact. 

Peter didn’t wait to hear everyone else’s and instead gathered the rest of the plates and began rinsing them to have something to do with his hands. After everyone finished reading theirs out loud and adding ‘in bed’ to the end, May declared it time for them to go to bed and rounded everyone up, herding them towards the stairs. It was still pretty early for sleep, but Peter felt his eyelids drooping and he yawned reflexively.

Bucky caught him yawning and nodded at him.

“I slept sixteen hours a day after I got out of cryo, there’s something about high stress situations that makes people sleep a bunch after.” Peter, grateful for the information, smiled at him.

“Cool, good to know. You want to see where we’re staying?” He led Bucky up the stairs, opening the door to the room that was ‘theirs’ and showing him the bathroom. Bucky put down his backpack and duffel and looked around the room, inspecting the window locks and the closets. Seemingly satisfied, he took out the two sets of clothes from the duffel and placed them in one of the dressers.

Opening the backpack, he pulled out a notebook and pen and sat on the edge of the bed with it, looking lost. After a few moments Peter sat down on the other side, not making any moves towards the notebook.

“Hey, EDITH?” Bucky looked up at him and he tried to project confidence and calm.

“Yes, Peter?”

“You know how you said Mr. Stark left me some money for stuff, and how he set up stuff like that for everyone considered for the avengers program?” Bucky’s eyes widened and his eyebrows rose at the new information. “Did he set up one for Bucky? He could use some more clothes, if he’s going to be staying with us for a while.” Bucky tried to interrupt him, but Peter held up a hand before he could say anything, waiting for EDITH’s reply.

“He did, there is a fund for one James Buchanan Barnes from which he can pull for necessary items. Would you like me to select some clothes in his size and have them sent over tomorrow? Or did he want to choose his own?” Peter relayed the question to Bucky, who looked gobsmacked.

“What? No, he musta, that’s gotta be some kind of mistake. He shouldn’t have left me anything, he hated me. He should have, anyway.” Peter smiled at him and gently rested a hand on his arm.

“He wasn’t that kind of man, he wanted everyone to be okay. Did you want to pick out your clothes, or have EDITH pick for you?” Bucky shook his head, looking faintly green.

“No, no if she’s got the right size it’s fine, she can choose for me. If that’s not too much trouble, that is.” Peter relayed the information to EDITH, who confirmed it was no trouble at all.

With clothes for Bucky taken care of, Peter got up and got ready for bed. He grabbed his PJ pants and went to the bathroom to give Bucky some privacy, and to change himself. He slipped on the pants and felt the odd loss of the plug as he moved, wincing as his body responded to the thoughts of Beck, teasing him. He glared down at his erection, willing it to go away. Shockingly, it did no such thing. Peter brushed his teeth, trying to ignore it.

Ignoring it didn’t work, however, and Peter bit his lip, reaching into the PJ pants and pulling himself out. He tugged at his dick quickly and harshly, wanting it over with. Unwanted images of Beck came to him as he did, thoughts of the man being rough with him, getting him off with no regard to drawing it out or making it good for Peter. That thought finally pushed him over the edge, and he bit down hard on his lip as he came, nearly drawing blood. He cleaned himself up quickly and flushed the evidence, exiting the bathroom and fleeing back to his own room.

When he got back to the room, Bucky sat against the headboard writing carefully in his notebook, focused intently. He didn’t look up when Peter entered, although the man likely knew he was there.

“Did you want to stay up for a bit with the light on? I can probably sleep with it on, just make sure you turn it out before going to sleep.” Bucky shook his head, closing the notebook and marking his page carefully.

“Naw it’s fine, I was almost done anyway. Let me just put this away.” Peter watched Bucky get up and place the notebook carefully back in the backpack before climbing into one side of the bed, ensuring his metal arm faced away from Peter. He hit the light after the other man was in the bed, and felt his way to the other side.

Peter pulled the covers back, climbing in and settling down. He closed his eyes, but it still didn’t feel right. Bucky was so far to the other side that he was falling out, and Peter couldn’t sense the man at all.

“Hey, uh, Bucky?” Peter’s heart hammered in his chest. “Would you mind- that is, could I-?” He wasn’t even sure what he needed, but Bucky sighed and shifted closer to the center of the bed. Peter could feel his warmth radiating out, they weren’t touching but the man gave off heat like a furnace.

“Yeah, that’s- thanks.” Bucky murmured something that sounded like a muffled ‘you’re welcome’ and turned onto his side, away from Peter. Peter barely had the time to contemplate how uncomfortable sleeping on a metal arm would be before drifting off, fading into sleep with the warmth of another body beside him.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I really couldn't help myself with this, it was too much exactly what I wanted to do while at the same time not at all what I want for my babies. I just really like torturing Peter and Bucky even though they are cinnamon rolls and only deserve nice things in their lives. Oops.

When Peter woke his face was pressed against skin and he was octopused around a warm torso, arms and legs hopelessly tangled together. He could feel himself hard and insistent against the man’s thigh, and gave an instinctive rock of his hips. _Mmm, nice._

Sleepy and disoriented, he splayed his hand over a flat toned stomach and slid it down, reaching for- yep, a nice healthy morning erection, straining against soft sweatpants. Without thinking too much, Peter rubbed the palm of his hand along the length. He pressed his face further into the warm salty skin beneath him and slipped his hand under the waistband of the sweatpants, curling around the man’s length with nimble fingers.

The sound of a choked off moan made him jump. The voice wasn’t the one he expected to hear, and the shock shot him straight into full consciousness. He backed away, nearly falling off the bed in his haste to get free of the unknown man.

“Shit. Shit!” As soon as he moved, the person he was on top of also moved, flailing in the other direction, and Peter caught a glimpse of smooth metal. _Shit, shit, shit._

Once they finally stopped moving, Peter locked gazes with Bucky, standing on the other side of the bed and staring at him in horror. Peter knew his expression mirrored Bucky’s.

“I didn’t-”

“I’m sorry-”

Both of them started talking then stopped as they talked over each other, and gestured for the other to go first. Peter decided to speak, if only to save the other man some mortification. He felt his face burning – he was likely red down to his bellybutton, he didn’t look down to confirm- but met Bucky’s eye as he spoke.

“I am so, so sorry. I don’t, I didn’t-” He floundered for the right words. “I didn’t realize it was you, I was like, mostly asleep, so I was just acting on instinct. You were asleep and I shouldn’t have done that. Shit. I’m sorry.” Bucky still looked like he wanted to crawl out of his skin, but he wasn’t eying the windows like they were a viable escape plan anymore, so Peter took that as a good sign.

“Shit, kid, you’re- I didn’t realize, I was asleep.” He sounded just as lost and confused as Peter felt. Peter sat heavily on the edge of the bed, dropping his head into his hands.

“Thts ssso uhked up.” His words were a bleary mess, muffled through his hands, and he groaned.

A knock came from the door to the hallway and both Peter and Bucky’s heads whipped up, focusing on the sound. “Boys? Everything okay in there? I heard a noise.” It was May.

Peter looked from the door back to Bucky in horror, and Bucky waved his hands in the universal ‘I don’t know, you say something’ motion.

Peter cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, May, we’re fine. Just almost fell off the bed, sorry.” The door stayed mercifully closed.

“Okay, as long as you’re alright in there.” Her faint footsteps retreated to her room, and they both breathed a loud sigh of relief.

Peter looked back at Bucky and saw the man was a little calmer. “Look, I didn’t- I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry. I guess I thought you were someone else or something.” Bucky nodded, running assessing eyes over Peter now, who blushed more and turned away.

“Yeah, I got that. But who did you think I was?” Peter didn’t turn back around. “Because, well, kid, that wasn’t awkward teenage fumbling, you knew where you were going.” He let the silence go for a moment. “You don’t _have_ to tell me anything, but I’m here if you want to talk, Peter.” Peter shook his head, still not turning around.

“No, I, I’m good. I just need to figure all my shit out. And I’ll sleep on the couch from now on, you shouldn’t have to deal with me being stupid.” He moved to get up, but a touch to his shoulder stopped him.

“Hey, stop. I’m not kicking you out of your own bed. If you’d be more comfortable without me here, that’s fine, I can still take the floor or the couch if you want.” He paused before adding, “But that might have been the best sleep I remember having, excluding the last ten minutes or so of it.” Peter caught the ghost of a smile and returned it hesitantly.

“I guess, yeah, I didn’t have any nightmares either. I’m not going to kick you out, we just have to figure this out.” He paused, thinking. “Maybe it’ll just take time, like, after today I’ll know not to do that.” Peter didn’t think so, but he was trying for optimism.

“Yeah, maybe.” Bucky was silent for long moments and Peter thought they were done. “But seriously, if you need to talk about anything, I’m here. Literally, I guess, since we’re sharing for the time being.”

Peter cracked a smile, albeit a small one.

“Yeah, thanks, I appreciate it.” Bucky gave him a nod, and pulled on a shirt before leaving the room, presumably to use the bathroom. As soon as he was gone, Peter fell backwards, pulling the pillow over his face and groaning.

“Ugh, how is this even my life? Accidentally groping super hot super soldiers? Why can’t I have normal people problems?” He continued to smother himself until Bucky pulled the door open once more, causing Peter to sit up abruptly and pretend he wasn’t hiding under the pillow like a kid.

Bucky either didn’t notice or pretended he didn’t to avoid another awkward conversation. “Your aunt or someone made breakfast, I guess we slept pretty late. Everyone else is downstairs.” Peter nodded his thanks, not meeting the man’s eyes.

“Cool, I’ll change and head down, if you wanted the shower first.” Bucky nodded a little too quickly at that.

“Great, save me some food?” Peter, who noticed the night before that Bucky ate more than he did, nodded, already planning the next grocery list in his head with lots of high protein meals that could sustain two enhanced metabolisms. At least they had some extra money to help out.

Bucky picked out one of his two outfits and made for the door again, going to shower. Peter watched him go and only gave himself a few seconds to wallow in his despair before getting up to change and face the day.

When he got downstairs, he was greeted by the sight of Ned frying french toast while MJ battered and cinnamon-ed. May stood watching. He came to a halt beside his aunt, looking from her to the scene in front of him. She shrugged at him, clearly just as at a loss.

“Are you guys- making breakfast?” Both of his friends looked up in sync.

“Yep!” Ned waved a greasy spatula at him cheerfully. “We were up earlier than everyone else, and we wanted to, since you cooked yesterday Peter.” He flipped one more piece onto the already towering plate of french toast. It was at least two full loaves of bread, possibly three.

Peter stood and stared for a moment, then grabbed a new plate from a drawer, switching it out for Ned’s almost full one.

“Thanks, you can put that on the table if you want, there aren’t that many more to make.” Peter did so, then fished out the syrup from a cupboard. It smelled amazing, and he was excited to eat with his friends. He’d felt like he was neglecting them the last few days, and wanted to catch up.

Feet on the stairs came just as Peter put the second plate of french toast onto the table and Ned and MJ dumped the prep dishes in the sink. Bucky rounded the corner and nearly collided with May who still hovered by the door, wary of being in the way of the cooking. They righted themselves, and May giggled at Bucky who was still damp from the shower, in a shirt that had been washed so many times it was nearly translucent.

“French toast!” Ned’s cheer brought all faces turning towards him, and he waved the spatula, shoo-ing them all toward the table. “Eat, eat before it gets cold.” They all took their places and dug in. It was quiet except for the sounds of munching as everyone enjoyed the food.

Once they’d all gotten seconds, Bucky turned toward Peter and cleared his throat. Peter’s eyes widened, he hoped the man wouldn’t say anything about the morning.

“So, uh, did you want to train at some point, maybe?” Peter wasn’t expecting that, and at his dumbfounded look, Bucky rushed to explain further. “No, I meant, like, fighting. I’ve seen a little of what you can do, you’re pretty strong, but you don’t know any good techniques. I could teach you some, if you wanted.”

“Wow, really? That would- that would be awesome, wow, thanks. Yeah, I’d love to learn more!” A grin threatened to split his face open, and he nearly jumped out of his seat to insist they go right now and do it immediately. “Can- what kind of things do you know? What do you think would work for me?” Bucky gave him a smile as well.

“Well, I know most forms of martial arts, but I was going to do mostly self defense, stuff that would keep you out of trouble if you needed to get away fast. Especially if that Mysterio guy is still coming after you.” Peter tried to hold back the flinch at the name, but didn’t quite manage it, and saw Bucky’s face fall as he noticed.

“Could I learn too?” MJ’s voice was moderated and she didn’t appear that interested, but Peter could read her better than he used to - she really wanted Bucky to say yes.

Bucky seemed taken aback, but shook it off. “Yeah, I don’t see why not. I was going to go over some basics from Krav Maga first, it couldn’t hurt for you to know it as well.” She gave him a solemn nod.

Ned raised his hand, still a little cowed by Bucky’s presence. “Uh, could I learn some of it as well?” Bucky nodded and turned to May.

“How about you? It could be a group field trip.” He winked. Peter wasn’t the only one who swooned a little at that, and May gave a weak nod. “Well, great. I know you guys are staying here for protection, but with Peter’s fancy AI, we should know if there’s any surveillance searching for us, right?” He looked to Peter, who had totally forgotten the glasses on his nightstand in the embarrassment of the morning.

“Uh, yeah, EDITH should be able to-” He cut off, and got up. “I’m gonna grab the glasses, uh, be right back.” He walked out of the room and up the stairs, swiping the glasses and sticking them on his face as he returned to the kitchen.

“EDITH, hey, sorry. Could you tell me where, where Beck is?” He forced the name out and watched as the booting screen flashed in front of his eyes before the readout changed to reflect a map of NYC. A glowing dot indicated Peter, and another one showed Beck. The two were fifteen or twenty blocks apart, and it didn’t look like Beck was moving at all. Peter blinked off the image in his head of the man sleeping soundly, wrapped around Peter’s smaller frame. “Great, thanks EDITH. And do you know if he’s got anyone else out looking for any of us?”

“I have been monitoring his communications, apart from his actions yesterday he is not actively searching for you, as far as I can tell. He may have other methods of communication I am not privy to, but I do not have reason to think so at this time.” Peter nodded.

“Cool.” He faced the rest of the group. “He’s uh, pretty far away right now, and he isn’t doing anything evil or anything that EDITH knows about. So it looks like we have the day off.” The rest of the group smiled.

Bucky cleared his throat before they could get derailed. “I don’t know any great gyms or anything, but if you don’t mind being outside we could do it at central park - I know a couple good spots where there’s usually not many people that we could use.”

Peter nodded, thinking it over. The park was pretty open, but it was actually less likely to get any of them on any cameras that would run facial recognition, plus had the added bonus of keeping everyone from getting cabin fever. As long as he and Bucky weren’t in costume, they shouldn’t get recognized and it would just look like five people working out.

“Yeah, that works. Does anyone need workout clothes?” May had some, and she packed some for Peter as well, but Bucky, MJ and Ned all needed something to wear. Which reminded Peter of the discussion with Bucky the night before.

“Oh, wait. EDITH, did you end up getting Bucky some clothes? Was there anything good for working out in that?” She took a moment before responding.

“Yes, the clothes I ordered for Mr. Barnes should arrive around noon, and there are two outfits that would be considered ‘workout ready’.” Peter grinned at her tone, but waved a hand when he got a questioning look from the rest.

“She says your clothes will be here before noon, and there’s something you can wear. Uh, EDITH, could you add a few more things to that order for MJ and Ned?”

“Sure Peter, adding now. Do they have color preferences?” He turned to his friends.

“Any colors you want?” Ned shrugged, but MJ nodded her head.

“Yes, white. And possibly pink.” Peter’s mouth hung open in shock, but he closed it quickly. Before he could ask, she leveled everyone with a look. “It’s August. In New York City. We’re going to be exercising outdoors. Those are the colors that absorb the least amount of sunlight, so you overheat more slowly.” Now that was a much more well-reasoned argument than Peter expected, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Peter relayed their answers to EDITH, who added the requisite clothes to the order and confirmed it would still be there by noon. The readout over the stove read 8:40.

Peter wasn’t sure what to do until then. Usually during summer breaks he and Ned hung out and played games, he read, things like that, but all those things seemed to trivial after the events of the summer up to this point. He leaned back in his chair, thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote ~8k words yesterday and it's two chapters and I'm seriously considering squishing together some of the chapters between now and then because I'm like, so proud of that writing and I want to know what y'all think of it. I think I covered the full spectrum of human emotion and was completely drained at the end, but holy crap, it's either amazing and reads like a really dramatic, super emotional dialogue or will make no sense to anyone but me lol and I'm not gonna know until I post it.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mooorreeee fluff :) 
> 
> I moved yesterday and just got my computer (partially) set up, which stinks but I'm glad I've got internet (and the ability to write!) again! Behold, fluff. This chapter was definitely going in a different direction but you'll see where I was clearly diverted and had fun letting Peter have fun with his friends.

Ned broke the silence first. “So, uh, Mr. Barnes?” Bucky looked at him. “I was- uh- gonna ask,” Ned’s clear discomfort at being the subject of Bucky’s stare made him squirm in his seat but he prevailed after a moment of spluttering. “Well, uh, could I see your arm? It’s not the same one as you had when the whole- yeah, when you first showed up in the US, right?” 

Bucky gave him a slow nod, expressionless, and Ned hurried to explain further. “Well, I was wondering if you’d ever tested to see what you could do, you know? Like, how fine is the motor control? If you wanted to pick a blade of grass or thread a needle or something, could you? I just thought, well, maybe we could help you test it, figure out the limits so you’re not having to learn when you’ve gotta diffuse a bomb or something.” His idea had merits, and Peter leaned forward as well. 

“Oh yeah, and what about heat conduction? Can you tell if what you’re holding is hot or cold?” Now Bucky seemed more confused than before, but he nodded at Peter slowly. 

“Yeah, I can tell hot and cold, the old one couldn’t. The temperature sensations on this one are less than that of my right hand.” He held up the flesh-and-blood hand and wiggled his fingers to demonstrate. “As for the other stuff, I think I’ve got pretty good dexterity, I haven’t tried threading any needles recently but I probably could in a pinch.” He raised his hand and stretched the fingers, showing off the gears and movement for Peter and Ned to examine. Both boys leaned forward and watched in fascination.

“Princess Shuri, the princess of Wakanda built it for me out of vibranium, so it’s pretty top of the line.” Everyone sitting around the table ‘ooh’ed at that, leaning in to look closer. 

Peter had a sneaking suspicion where Ned’s line of questioning would end up. 

Ned, for his part, waited at least fifteen seconds before following up with the next question. “So, uh, when we were packing to come here I figured we didn’t know how long for. I grabbed the Lego Death Star, so if anyone wanted to help build that maybe we could do it before we go to the park?” Peter shot him a grin. 

Bucky tilted his head as he looked at Ned. “What’s a Death Star?” 

Peter and Ned jumped out of their chairs simultaneously. “He’s never seen it!” Ned crowed. Peter’s answering grin was excited. 

“We get to show it to him! He’s not spoiled!” They high fived over the table and got amused looks from MJ and May, and blank confusion from Bucky. “No saying anything! No quoting it!” Peter’s voice raised in panic, he wanted nothing to ruin the moment.

“That’s it, we’re watching it right now. Otherwise, with my luck we’d walk by someone on the street wearing a Star Wars shirt later.” He slapped his hands down on the table. “EDITH, can you queue up Star Wars on the flatscreen? Episode four, please.” 

MJ cackled, though both her and May seemed genuinely excited, and Peter and Ned ushered a completely confused Bucky Barnes into the living room and onto the couch, where EDITH had the movie’s opening credits ready to go. 

“You do realize we’ll have to watch episode four and five, and probably six, one after the other?” MJ didn’t sound more annoyed than usual, but she brought up a good point. 

“Ah yeah, right, I forgot it’s not until-” Peter cut himself off before saying anything more on that subject. “Anyway, it’s fine. Two hours each, three movies max, we should have plenty of time to do this and self-defense this afternoon.” He plopped down on the couch next to Bucky, with Ned on his other side. Ned tried to stifle giggles, and Bucky still seemed confused but willing to go with it. 

Peter knew it was dumb, but he really appreciated the opportunity to be dumb and watch a movie with the people he cared about. _Please, can I have just this one day. I just want some time to be a normal kid._ He leaned back, settling into the couch, and pretended not to notice when Bucky settled against him, their thighs touching. 

“EDITH, will you do the honors?” She did, and the opening music to Episode 4 began. May dimmed the lights from her place at the door before finding her own spot to sit. 

After Episode 4, they decided as a group to break and make movie snacks before continuing. Peter found popcorn in the food EDITH ordered, and the others broke off to get drinks and use the bathroom. As he put in the timer for the popcorn, Peter realized he and Bucky were the only ones left in the kitchen. 

He finished typing in the numbers and turned to find Bucky directly behind him, less than a foot between them. Bucky, hand almost on Peter's shoulder and who clearly not expecting him to whirl around, jumped back and knocked into the table. He winced and one hand rubbed at his butt where he smacked into the wood. Peter’s eyes were drawn to the motion and he found himself staring at Bucky’s ass. It was a very nice ass. 

He shook his head, trying to clear it, and made eye contact with the man. Bucky looked sheepish, and rubbed the back of his head when he looked at Peter. 

“I was gonna ask if we had any candy. I know popcorn is great but it doesn’t feel like a movie without candy, you know?” Peter nodded, refusing to feel embarrassed, and pointed to the drawer he stashed the snacks in. 

“In there. It might not be what you expect though, I don’t know how much you stayed up on the candy trends through the decades.” Bucky pulled open the drawer and shifted through the brightly-colored boxes, inspecting each before putting it down again. He settled on Twizzlers and Nerds, holding up the box of the latter for Peter to see. 

“What is this? I thought nerds were like, smart people?” Peter couldn’t help but laugh, and he opened the box, pouring some out to show Bucky. 

“They’re sugar, basically, but a little tart or sour or something? Although yes, that is the other definition, I like these ones better.” He popped a few into his mouth, and Bucky did the same, eyes widening at the taste and the crunch. 

“Woah, those are interesting.” He held onto the box, and Peter counted it as a win. 

Once they were all ready, snacks in hand, they started up episode 5. Peter and Ned shot glances over to Bucky, and when EDITH interrupted them barely half an hour into the movie Ned nearly threw popcorn at the TV. 

“Peter, the clothes you requested are here, the courier is at the door.” Peter groaned and nearly let Bucky go by himself, but got up anyway to help grab the stuff. He motioned for everyone else to stay seated, and together they opened the door to see what awaited them. 

The guy looked normal, with a large box in his hands, another at his feet. He held out the first box and Bucky took it easily, making it look weightless. Peter held out his hands for the electronic clipboard, signed, and made grabby hands for the second box.

The man didn’t roll his eyes, but looked like he wanted to. Peter got the box inside where Bucky’s had been deposited already, and Bucky closed the door firmly after the man left. 

Once they determined the boxes weren’t booby trapped, they decided by mutual agreement to leave the opening and unpacking until later, and headed back into the living room to finish the movie. As soon as their butts hit the couch, EDITH started the movie again and they were drawn in again. 

After the end of the movie, Bucky, wide-eyed and shaken, declared he needed a minute and disappeared into the bathroom. Peter and Ned exchanged glances, uneasy. Peter hadn’t thought about the parallels between Bucky and Luke Skywalker, and only when Luke clutched one handedly as Vader declared himself Luke’s father did he realize it might not have been the best idea to show Bucky Star Wars. When Luke fell, Bucky’s hand clamped onto Peter’s leg and didn’t let go until the credits finished. If Peter was normal, he would have a bruise for a couple days, but his healing took care of the damage and he was fine by the time Bucky emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later, still pale and shaky but looking a little better. 

“Did- did you want to watch the third one? If not, we understand, we didn’t realize-” Bucky cut off Ned’s rambling with a wave of his hand. 

“No, no it’s okay, if you say the third one is good, I want to watch it. Besides, I need to know how everything turns out, they’ve got to save the balance of the Force!” He smiled at them, and when Peter caught his eye meaningfully he gave a nod, indicating he was alright. 

They once again settled in to watch episode 6, snacks replenished and energy a little lower but still there. Peter knew going into it he might not be comfortable with some parts, but he was surprisingly fine through all of the slave Leia scenes until she wrapped the chain around the neck of Jabba the Hutt and choked him out, killing him. 

As she fought him, pulling on the chain, Peter blinked and saw himself in her place. Even when he fully hated Beck, he couldn’t have killed him like that. What did that say about Peter? And now with his feelings about the man a tangle that hurt his head to think about, he had no clue what to do. His hand ended up gripping Bucky’s arm, much like the man had did earlier, and it was probably too tight but he couldn’t let go. 

Metal fingers gently prised his hand off, and he abruptly released the arm, scared of hurting him, but Bucky caught his arm before he could jerk too far in the other direction. Peter looked to his side and saw Bucky watching him, steady. Cool metal fingers pulled his hand back and placed it in Bucky’s flesh and blood hand, which squeezed gently to let him know it was alright. He gripped tightly again, thankful for the anchor, and turned back to the movie. 

Once the movie finished, Peter realized he still held Bucky’s hand and dropped it quickly, flushing. He hoped the other man didn’t mind. 

The others all stood and Peter and Bucky did as well, stretching out the stiffness in their legs from the movie marathon. Peter gathered all of the snack supplies and dropped them in the kitchen. 

When he got back to the living room, MJ and Ned had pulled in the boxes with the clothes and opened them with Bucky and May watching. MJ noticed Peter and waved him over. 

“Here, put your superpowers to good use. I can’t get the tape off.” He tore the box where she indicated and it ripped easily under his hands. Once he got the top off, he leaned back to give her better access. She pulled out a stack of clothes, each packed neatly in its own plastic sleeve. 

Peter chanced a look at Bucky, who watched the proceedings with a mix of confusion and interest. Since the clothes were mostly for him, Peter thought Bucky should go through them, but if he minded he didn’t say anything. 

MJ made a sound of triumph as she unearthed something pink and white, holding it aloft. She tossed it onto the couch behind her and kept digging, looking for Ned’s. 

Peter realized he didn’t know what color Ned’s clothes were. “Hey EDITH, what did Ned’s clothes look like? I don’t want to open everything to figure out which they are.” His display readout highlighted the clothes, and then two of the packages blinked white. 

“These are the clothes for Ned, I went with blue and white for his color palette.” Peter scooped up the packages and held them out to his friend. MJ looked slightly disappointed that they couldn’t keep looking but stopped when Peter handed the clothes over. 

“I guess the rest of this is all Bucky’s then.” Bucky looked at the amount of clothes and turned white. 

“No, there’s gotta be some kinda mistake, that’s so much. Are you sure?” Peter nodded, still scanning the readout from the glasses. 

“Yeah, EDITH confirmed they’re all yours. Did you want help carrying everything upstairs?” Bucky nodded and Peter helped him pile everything into the mostly intact boxes. He took one, Bucky took the other, and they carried them up to Peter and Bucky’s room. 

Once they put them down, Peter surveyed the contents of the boxes. 

“Did you need help finding the workout stuff? It’s a lot to look through, EDITH could help.” Bucky nodded, shooting him a grateful look. 

“Yeah, if you don’t mind. I appreciate the clothes, it’s just a little overwhelming, you know?” Peter nodded, he did know. Mr. Stark was way too generous and he’d taught his AIs the same. It could be a lot for someone unused to it. 

“EDITH, can you highlight Bucky’s training stuff?” She obliged and he pulled out a shirt and some gym shorts, handing them to Bucky. “Thanks EDITH!” Bucky took the clothes and looked at them for a moment. Peter waited, confused, and then got it. “Oh, uh, right, I’ll just, grab my stuff and go change in the bathroom.” He hurriedly grabbed a t-shirt and some shorts and left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't lie, I spent more time researching Star Wars than I did writing this chapter. It was a lot of fun, and I totally wanna binge watch episodes 4, 5, and 6 now. My BF thinks I'm insane for spending so much time trying to figure out which part of Star Wars would be the most likely to give certain characters panic attacks, but I appreciate the new knowledge. Lol. 
> 
> Next up: self-defense class with Bucky Barnes :P


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally did Krav Maga in college but that was not all that recent so forgive me if there are any mistakes - I based a lot of this off what I remember, it should be right but I'm not 100%.

When he got to the bathroom, Peter changed quickly, not paying much attention to the clothes he’d grabbed except to check they still fit. As he moved, he felt the odd sensation of the lack of plug he’d been wearing until the day before. He shouldn’t still be adjusting to the feeling - he’d lived his whole life without it and only worn it for a few days. But he still felt empty, like he was missing something, and his inability to ignore the lack discomfited. 

Peter finished changing and exited the bathroom at the same time Bucky left their shared room in his new clothes. _Holy shit I need to buy EDITH flowers, or whatever the digital version of flowers is._ His thoughts spiraled as he tried not to stare at the man and mostly failed. 

Bucky’s new clothes were indecently tight, the athletic shirt stretched around impressive arms and a strong chest that narrowed into an elegant waist. Peter wrenched his eyes away when he realized he was staring, shaking his head to clear it. Bucky didn’t need a teenager with a crush lusting after him, and he definitely didn’t need the one sharing a bed with him doing it. 

Peter hopped down the stairs instead of staying to talk - or more likely, ogle the man. MJ had changed already and filled up water bottles in the kitchen. She handed one to Peter wordlessly and gave him a smirk that said she knew every indecent thought he’d ever had. He blushed bright red but took the water, stepping out of the way so Bucky -who was right behind him, because _of course_ \- could grab one as well. 

Once everyone was ready to go, Peter double-checked with EDITH that Beck wasn’t out looking for him or doing anything else evil or nefarious, and at her confirmation, they set off. 

Bucky led the way to central park and the rest followed. Ned, MJ, and May were all happy to be outside in the sun, and Peter trailed behind them feeling guilty about keeping them inside. He knew it was in everyone’s best interest, but he still hated that he’d came and went much more freely than the rest of his family, even if it wasn’t exactly his choice. 

Once they got to the park, Bucky found an empty area of open grass, and showed them how to stretch before exercise. He led the group in warm-ups, first the stretches, then jogging, then crunches. Peter kept up easily despite his recent malnourishment, superpowers keeping him fighting fit even though he still wasn’t back to full strength. The others had varying levels of success, and both Ned and May begged off one or more of the warm up exercises, saying they would pass out. 

Bucky let them skip some of the warm-ups, but made sure they knew they needed to push themselves to develop more stamina. Once they warmed up, he had the others sit in the grass to watch while he demonstrated with Peter. 

“Peter, stand in front of me. No, there. Yeah, like that. Now stand like you’re going to throw a punch.” Peter raised a fist, shooting the other man a questioning glance, and Bucky fought the urge to groan. 

“I seriously cannot believe you’ve been doing, uh, things, and you still have no technique. You’re lucky you’re strong. Here, copy me.” He stood opposite Peter and adjusted his legs so his left food was forward, right foot a bit back. Peter shifted his weight and moved his feet to copy Bucky and got a smile of approval. 

Bucky lifted his right arm and looked at the others. “I’m right handed, so if I want to punch someone hard, I want to stand with my left foot forward, so the rotation and full force of my body is behind the punch.” He swung in slow motion at Peter, demonstrating the way to move to get the maximum power behind a punch without over exerting. “Alright, now Peter, punch me.”

Peter hesitated. 

“Come on, I know you’re strong, but seriously, punch me. You don’t have to go all out, I just want to show how to block a punch.” Peter nodded, and braced himself. The adjusted leg stance helped his balance, and he swung lightly at Bucky who lifted his opposite wrist and knocked Peter’s hand aside. 

Bucky turned back to the others. “See? You don’t need to do what all the stupid kung-fu movies say where someone punches you and you catch their fist or whatever. That means you absorb the energy they’re using their whole body to send at you, and it hurts like hell. All you have to do is knock the blow aside.” 

He positioned Peter’s hands so they were in front of his chest, held loosely out from his body. “This is how you want to hold your arms in a fight, if it’s one person and you think they’re gonna punch you. Don’t be the one punching first.” He aimed another slow motion punch at Peter’s solar plexus, and Peter knocked his punch aside, like Bucky did before. “Good. But your hands are drifting.” Peter looked down and found his hands were six or so inches lower than where Bucky put them. He readjusted just in time to block a punch aimed at his head. 

“Make sure you’re always protecting your face and head. If you get punched in the stomach, it usually sucks, but it’s not always life-threatening. A punch to the head or neck is way more likely to be dangerous, so you want to block those.” He grabbed Peter’s hands again, pushing them up from where he’d let them drop. “Keeping your hands up is the hardest thing to learn because it’s a constant thing, not a cool flashy move. But if you’re in a fight, that keeps you alive and kicking long enough for your opponent to make a mistake and for you to run for it.” He swung again and Peter blocked easily, letting his hands return to the same position. “Good.” 

Bucky turned to face the others once more, breaking his fighting stance. “I want MJ to practice with Peter, and Ned can work with May. I’ll watch and let you know what to work on.” The others got up with only mild complaining, and before long Peter stood facing MJ in the grass. 

He looked to Bucky, unsure. “Hey, Bucky? I know we’re not going full strength or anything, but I still don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to practice with MJ. Even when I’m out fighting, I’m pulling my punches a lot of the time.” He gave a guilty half-shrug. Bucky looked at him, and then back to MJ. 

“It’s your call. If you want to wait and switch off with Ned and May you can, but I don’t think Peter would hurt you, intentionally or unintentionally.” MJ turned back to Peter with a glint in her eyes. 

“Oh, you’re not getting out of this one, Parker.” Without any more warning, she swung, a quick jab that would have caught the side of his neck if he didn’t sense it coming and block the punch. She moved faster than Bucky had, and hit harder. Peter found himself grinning, and settled into the fighting stance. 

After a while of practicing punching and blocking, Bucky called a time out and made them drink water and then switch partners. Peter ended up with May, Ned with MJ. Ned handled her strikes with less aplomb than Peter, and both Peter and May ended up watching MJ pummel him instead of training with each other. 

Despite the fact that he hadn’t landed a single punch and was only blocking two in three, Ned didn’t back down and kept trying to get a hit in. When he finally landed one on her shoulder (after getting hit with a one-two combo from her right then left fist) he whooped, throwing his arms up and jumping into the air. Even Bucky smiled, and MJ let him have the victory, toppling over like he’d mortally wounded her. 

Everyone was laughing now, and Peter sat down on the grass next to MJ. His heart felt lighter than it’d been in months. 

Eventually Bucky gave up on making them hold the fighting stance, and agreed to teach them one cool move. 

“Peter, help me demonstrate?” Peter hesitated, unsure what he’d be asked to do. When Bucky offered him a hand up, an unspoken promise he wouldn’t hurt Peter, he took it and let the man pull him to his feet. 

Bucky faced Peter towards the others, all seated once again, and then stood in front of him, blocking Peter’s view. “Alright, I’m going to show you guys how to get out of a hold if someone chokes you from behind.” Peter gulped but gave Bucky the benefit of the doubt before calling off the demonstration. _Y_ _ou fight crime, you can’t react like this._

He let Bucky take his arm and wrap it around the man’s throat, so he held Bucky in a loose choke hold, Peter’s elbow at Bucky’s chin. If he tightened his grip, he would have the man at his mercy instantaneously. Instead of powerful, the thought made Peter feel sick. 

He wasn’t paying attention to Bucky talking, so it was a surprise when hands came down on his arm, one on each side of his elbow. Peter’s grip loosened and Bucky wrenched his body away, stepping towards Peter’s shoulder and twisting so Peter couldn’t hold him. In two seconds, Bucky freed himself and was out of range so Peter couldn’t grab him again. 

The move caused a smattering of applause from the others, and Peter looked up to see Ned, MJ, and May all clapping as Bucky took a small bow. 

“Now, that one will get you free, but I don’t want you to practice it because there’s a real chance of you damaging to the shoulder of the person you use it on. Obviously less of a concern if you’re really in danger, but since we all like each other for the most part, I don’t want any injuries.” Ned raised a hand, and Peter smothered a grin as Bucky called on him, nonplussed. 

“Can you show us one more time? With Peter?” Bucky shot Peter a questioning look, and Peter nodded his agreement. 

“Sure, Peter, can you-?” Peter obligingly put his arm around Bucky’s neck again, and felt the man’s muscles shift as he prepared to break the hold. This time, Peter paid close attention to Bucky’s movements and watched his body flow through the motions gracefully, breaking the hold and spinning out of Peter’s grip effortlessly. 

As Bucky came to a stop, Peter just looked at him, taking in the speed and power in the man’s form. He might not match Peter in terms of sheer strength, but in ability and knowledge, the man was a deadly force to be reckoned with, even for someone as strong as Peter. Peter took a moment to be thankful the man was on his side. 

After that demonstration, nobody wanted to go back to practicing punching, and they called it a day. The sun was lower in the sky, signaling it would be dark soon, and they set off home after refilling their waters. 

Peter felt energized instead of exhausted after the exercise, and he knew he was nearly back to full strength. He also knew he’d get restless if he didn’t patrol, and decided that getting back on the horse needed to happen sooner rather than later. 

After they got back home with no incidents, May declared it larb night, and found a good takeout menu on her phone. They ordered their food and settled in to wait for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got a discord now (woo) so, I dunno, message me if you wanna yell about Peter Parker? 
> 
> sweetesthoney#4571


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to tfwfangirlsatk for offering to beta for me! She is killin' it and super awesome for helping out :)

Peter cleared his throat in the silence, and all eyes turned to him. He flushed a little at the sudden attention, but pushed through.

“I uh, I think I should patrol tonight.” He held up a hand against the inevitable protests, and May leaned forward, letting him finish. “Since I’m nearly back at full strength, I’ll start getting antsy if I don’t do it, and that never ends well for anyone.” He shot May a glance, and she shuddered, remembering the time she grounded him from patrolling. He was bouncing off the walls (literally) by the time she caved and said he could patrol, three days later. “I’ll be careful, I’ll have Karen with me in my suit, and EDITH can monitor Beck and any of his associates to make sure I don’t get too close to them accidentally. I just need to do some small stuff, like cats in trees and carrying groceries.”

May looked at him consideringly. “I don’t like it, but I’m not going to win, am I?” Peter shook his head with a grin. “Can you call Fury and have him send some of his agents? Or someone else, one of the other supers to go with you, so you’ve got backup?” Peter shrugged.

“I could ask, but I doubt he can spare anyone, since he’s really doesn’t have many people. I think he would if he could, but well…” Peter trailed off, unsure. He liked the idea of backup, but knew Fury didn’t have any for him.

“I could go with you.” Bucky’s voice was quiet and his eyes focused on the floor. “I’m well trained and could keep Peter safe, if you need.” He aimed the statement at May, whose eyebrows shot up.

“I’d never doubt you would keep him safe, but I wouldn’t ask that of you Bucky, you’ve been fighting for so long already.” Peter nodded his agreement.

“It’s okay, I wouldn’t mind. Being able to protect people instead of fight is different, and I can play backup just as well as attack dog.” Peter’s heart hurt at the descriptions, but he knew he gained more knowledge on how the man thought of himself.

“Having backup would be helpful, but I don’t want to make you follow me all night. What if I loaned you EDITH and you just hung out in the area where I patrol? That way if I need help you’re there, but you could do other stuff in the meantime. Or just loiter, since there’s not that much to do.” He shot a cheeky grin at Bucky, who smirked back at him.

“Yeah sure kid, like you don’t get yourself into ridiculous situations all the time without my help.” Peter opened his mouth to contest the point and then closed it, conceding. “That’s what I thought.” Peter rolled his eyes.

“Okay, well, that works. If you don’t mind hanging out for a couple hours, I can swing around to patrol, then we both head back here. Does that sound good?” Bucky nodded, and Peter looked to May.

“Yes, I guess so. Life would be so boring if everyone were normal, wouldn’t it?” Peter laughed but it felt forced, and he gave up trying.

With that settled, they all got ready for dinner, everyone starving after the afternoon exercise. Bucky made sure they had enough ibuprofen for the next morning when everyone would be sore, and by that time the food arrived and they all dug in.

After dinner it was fully dark, and Peter changed into his suit before putting his regular clothes on top. He left the mask off, instead donning the EDITH glasses once more. He met Bucky at the front door, and May kissed them both on the forehead before they left, going onto her tiptoes to reach Bucky. Bucky looked nonplussed at the affection but accepted the kiss with a small smile.

Once they were outside in the cooling summer air, Peter took a deep breath, enjoying the sense of peace in the city. He’d had a nice day, for once, and now he got to patrol with actual backup. Life was good.

When Peter reached the alley he usually stashed his clothes in, he stopped and ducked behind a trash can to change. Bucky stood at the mouth of the alley, keeping watch, and Peter spared him a glance. Back rigid, he was clearly on alert, looking for any suspicious activity.

Peter changed quickly and then realized a problem. “Psst, Bucky. Get back here.” His voice stayed low, but the super soldier heard him well enough. He walked further into the alley where Peter waited sans mask. Peter held the backpack with his clothes in one hand, and his mask with the other.

“I usually leave my stuff here, but it might be faster if you carry it, since we wouldn’t come back for it after we’re done.” Bucky held out a hand for the backpack, pulling it on and tightening the straps.

Next, Peter tapped the glasses he wore. “EDITH, can I loan you to Bucky? Not transferring you over permanently, but just for a few hours? You’re still under my control, but he can access any information he needs to help keep me safe, and himself. He can talk to me too. Does that sound good?” He looked to Bucky questioningly, and Bucky nodded.

“Confirmed. Subuser Bucky Barnes added under Peter Parker. Limited access.” EDITH sounded more robotic as she spoke, and the screen of the glasses flickered white in confirmation. Peter lifted the frames from his face and offered them to Bucky. The motion was familiar, if not pleasant, but Peter stomped on the feeling of loss and misuse of trust until it went away. Bucky took the glasses without comment and put them on, blinking rapidly at the information from the readouts.

Peter gave him a somewhat ironic salute and pulled his own mask on, covering his face before swinging up the side of the building next to them. Once he had a good swing going, he headed south towards Queens.

“Testing, testing, one two three. Can you hear me?” Bucky’s voice piped from the speakers in his mask and Peter grinned as he whipped through the air.

“Loud and clear! How about you, am I coming through okay?” The air whipped past, and Peter realized he was speaking louder to be heard over the roar. He modulated his voice, figuring Mr. Stark had added in something to cut down on the outside noise.

“I hear you, but there’s a delay. Do you hear it?” Peter shot some webs once he reached a good area, and made himself a web hammock to hang out in for a few minutes.

“I don’t think I have a delay. Karen, do you know what’s up?” Her voice filtered out of the speakers after a moment.

“Your voice is on a delay to Mr. Barnes in the case you request his access be cut off. Or that you request he not hear a conversation you take part in.” Her voice was cold, and Peter quirked an eyebrow.

“Is that really necessary?”

“Yes!” She was angry now. “It is necessary because the last time you handed your glasses to someone I had to hear secondhand about you getting tortured. EDITH and I are taking every precaution to ensure that doesn’t happen again.” Peter bristled, but she was right.

“Alright, well can you cut down on the delay a bit? Can he hear the conversation we’re having now?” Her answer came a moment later.

“He cannot, conversations you have with me are classified as private. If you come up with a signal instead of a vocal command to cut Mr. Barnes’ access, I could remove the delay.” Peter thought for a moment.

“How about, if I do this-” He drew one finger across his throat like someone dramatically miming a threat, “you cut his access. And get rid of the delay. If there’s a reason to keep him out of a conversation, I’ll say ‘Karen’ first, so it’s already a private conversation. Does that work?” She mulled it over, considering.

“Your terms are acceptable. I will update EDITH on the arrangement.” Peter nodded gratefully.

“Good. Now can I talk to Bucky again?” She patched him through, and he could hear the sounds of the city in the background of whatever Bucky was doing. “Hey Bucky, can you hear me?” The line was silent for a moment.

“Yeah, you’re coming through loud and clear. Did you figure it out?” Peter nodded, forgetting the man couldn’t see him.

“Oh, sorry, yeah I figured it out. K- My AI set up a privacy filter with a delay. But I had her fix it, should be good now. How do I sound?” He looked down on his city as he talked, taking in the lights from windows and listening for people needing help.

“You sound fine, I don’t hear the delay anymore. Are you set?” Peter rolled, smoothly launching himself out of the hammock and down into the city.

“Yep, heading out now. You know where I am? Got any plans for your evening?” Bucky snorted.

“Watching your back should keep me plenty busy. I’m sure I’ll run into some morons of my own at some point, there’s always someone itching for a fight in New York.” Peter heard the sounds of honking and shouting in the background of wherever Bucky was. “Anyway, I’ll be around but I don’t want to crowd you, so just let me know if you need anything. Otherwise I’ll keep myself busy.” Peter felt a wave of gratitude wash over him. Bucky hadn’t insisted he couldn’t handle himself, he just gave Peter the out if he needed one.

“Thanks, Bucky. I’ll let you know. I don’t think tonight will be anything big, though.” Peter let the conversation drop, and headed out to see what trouble he could find.

After stopping two muggings, one bike thief, and helping not two but three old ladies cross the street, Peter felt great and was ready to call it a night. He worked off most of his excess energy swinging around the city, and Bucky checked in regularly but didn’t push. All in all, his entire day couldn’t have gone better.

“Peter, I have bad news.” Karen’s voice was unhappy, and Peter’s entire body tensed at her words. “The asshole requested to speak with you. EDITH insisted I pass his message along, for you to decide. He wants to talk, no traps according to him.” She paused.

“But Peter, you shouldn’t go, this isn’t safe. Please just go home and ignore him.” Peter shook his head. 

“I can’t Karen, you know that. He’ll do something bigger and more dangerous to get my attention if I ignore him.” Peter walked towards the edge of the roof he was on, preparing to jump. “Where is he?” She sighed.

“He’s on the roof of Stark Tower.” Peter jumped, already plotting the best course to the tower when another thought struck him.

“Karen, did you tell Bucky about the message?”  
Her answer was glum. “I did not, Peter, since it was a private conversation. I can alert him to the message, he could be at the tower in two point five-” Peter cut her off.

“No! No, don’t tell him. EDITH can’t tell him either. Tell nobody.” He knew it was stupid to see Beck alone, but he hated the thought of anyone finding out what happened. He’d take the chance he could be captured again over everyone finding out what Beck did to him. What he let Beck do to him. “And when I’m there, don’t broadcast anything to Bucky. Or anyone else. And mask my location if Bucky checks, just stall him instead of answering.” Karen affirmed the request as Peter came up on Stark Tower, silhouetted against the night sky.

“Did Beck say what he wanted?” Peter hoped his voice wasn’t as hopeful as it sounded to him. He wasn’t excited, damn it.

“He did not, only that he wanted to talk.” Peter reached the tower and started climbing the outside. Karen’s voice was strained, and she sounded more human than he’d ever heard her. “Peter, I must advise against this meeting. There are incalculable risks, and you are in danger every moment you’re close to him.” Peter shook his head.

“He’s dangerous, yeah, but if I talk to him I can figure out his plans and try to stop him from hurting anyone.” He neglected to think about the hurt already caused to him. “Anyway, he can’t capture me without control over EDITH again, and now I know better.” Peter was already two thirds of the way up the building, and he pushed on, climbing faster.

Once he reached the lip of the roof, he paused, listening. He couldn’t hear the shuffling of feet that would signal many people, or anything else indicating a trap, but there were other ways to trap someone. There wasn’t anything else for it, however, and he launched himself over the edge and onto the roof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: *drama* (Beck is such a dramatic ho lol)


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the two chapters I mentioned being really proud of a few days ago, enjoy! (I did!)

Peter landed on the roof with a gentle thump, using his super sense of balance to land on his toes, absorbing the impact. He looked around, taking in the area. There were a few chairs, clearly someone set them up to watch the city, and a door that presumably led down into the tower itself. The roof had a low wall to keep people from falling accidentally - a concrete barrier that came up to his stomach. With the tower unoccupied, there wasn’t much ambient light to see by.

Beck stood next to the door to the lower floors, staring at Peter. As soon as Peter registered the man’s presence he felt the tug to go to him, to be closer to him. Peter ignored that feeling.

“Spider-Man! Glad you made it, I started to worry you wouldn’t come.” The man’s voice was raised against the night air, and Peter ground his teeth together.

He pitched his voice low and quiet, not wanting Beck to hear him. “Karen, can you tell if he’s recording?”

“No, Peter, I cannot find any signs he is recording, although there are ways I can’t detect.” He breathed out, nearly a sigh.

“Thanks. Can you set the filters to get rid of any holograms too?” She obliged and his vision took on that yellow tint. The outline of the man didn’t change, and Peter was absurdly grateful.

Peter straightened and faced Beck across the roof. “Mysterio. How did you know I was patrolling? Why am I here?” He wanted to sound like he was tough, that he meant business, but it came out more high pitched and questioning than he wanted. Damn.

Beck stepped out of the pool of light around the door, towards Peter. The light behind him lit him from behind, making it obvious he wasn’t in his usual fishbowl - instead he wore casual clothes. He stopped about two-thirds of the way across the roof, reflections from the city below casting enough light for Peter to make out his expression. He wasn’t happy, but he wasn’t annoyed either. He wore the EDITH glasses Peter gave him, presumably how he contacted Peter in the first place.

Peter had mixed feelings about the fact he could read the man’s moods so well. He appreciated the ability, but didn’t like the reminder of how intimately he knew him.

“What, you mean how did I know you were out and about without the use of an all-powerful AI?” Peter nodded. “The same way everyone else does.” He paused for a moment. “Google alerts.” Peter rolled his eyes, but Beck probably wasn’t joking. “And you’re here because I asked you here. I say jump, you say how high.” He sneered a little, and Peter’s back stiffened. Peter stepped back and put one hand on the lip of the roof, ready to launch himself away.

“If that’s it, I’m leaving, so spit it out.” He lifted one leg and prepared to vault over before Beck called out again.

“Wait! There is something else.” Peter heard movement but before he could turn again Beck was in his space, pushing him against the lip of the roof and trapping Peter with his body.

“Wha-” Peter didn’t have time to protest before a rough hand tugged off his mask and fisted in his hair, pulling his head back and exposing his neck. He felt the other man hard against him, grinding him into the cement wall, and his body responded in kind.

“Ah- wha- no don’t-” The hand in his hair tightened every time he spoke, and he stopped trying.

“Now that’s better, isn’t it?” Peter gave the slightest nod. “Good boy, Peter. Before you so rudely tried to leave, I planned to make you an offer. I think it would be polite of you to listen to it, yeah?” Peter gave another nod. The hand in his hair relaxed a little, petting him as he gasped and scraped together what little remained of his composure. “Come with me, Peter.” Beck stepped away from Peter, stopped touching him altogether, and Peter nearly crumpled to the ground at the lack of support. He grabbed hold of the wall and swayed but stayed standing. A chuckle from behind him let him know Beck saw his weakness, and he flushed.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, just tell me what you want and let me leave.” Beck chuckled again.

“I want to talk somewhere that’s not a windy rooftop.” Beck said. Peter clenched his hands into fists, not moving. “Peter.” The man’s voice lost all humor, now sharp and demanding. “Come. Now.” Peter did.

He followed Beck into the door to the tower below and saw the interior of the penthouse. He’d never been there before. He looked around and realized Beck had been there for a while, as the space looked lived in. _This was Mr. Stark’s._

Beck didn’t appear to be leading him into a trap, however, and Peter breathed a sigh of relief.

“Why aren’t you trying to trap me again? Not that you should, but why not?” Beck rolled his eyes and looked at the ceiling as if for guidance.

“Because you control one of the most advanced weapons systems in the world, and said weapon system would murder me if I cut off your access. There are layers of redundancies for that eventuality - I would know, I helped design them.” Peter didn’t respond. “Speaking of which, here.” He tossed Peter’s mask at him and Peter caught it more out of habit than real intent. “Tell your AI you’re fine and not in danger. Leave the mask off once you’re done.”

Peter tugged the mask on self-consciously, and Karen’s readouts blinked into focus. “Peter! Are you okay? What happened?” Peter nodded shakily, not sure of the truth on either question.

“I’m- I’m fine. I think. We’re talking, he’s being weirdly normal and said he won’t kidnap me again because EDITH would murder him if he tried. So don’t worry, don’t tell Bucky or anyone else where I am, and yeah, I’ll be back soon.” Her protests were cut off as he pulled the mask off again, wondering why he obeyed Beck’s commands.

_I could leave. I could just pull on the mask and go, and he’d be shit out of luck._

Peter knew he should, but that didn’t stop the wanting to stay, to find out more about the man and what he wanted from Peter. When he turned back towards Beck, Beck watched him steadily as he poured himself a drink from a tumbler.

“Whiskey? It’s imported.” Peter shook his head, and Beck shrugged. “It’s good.” He sipped from the glass and swirled the amber liquid around, staring into it for long moments.

Peter started feeling impatient, and he tossed the mask in his hand down onto one of the couches. “Look, can you get to the point? Why am I here? What do you want? You said you couldn’t do anything to me, I can’t do anything to you, so just, tell me what you want.” Beck shot him a hungry grin and heat pooled in Peter’s stomach against his will.

“You’re so eager, I like it.” Peter shook his head. Beck set the glass down on a side table and took swift strides towards Peter, closing the distance between them. Peter needed to move, but just like the last time in the man’s presence, his legs refused to obey orders. In seconds Beck stood before him, leaning into his space.

“I’m not- look. What do you want?” Peter’s voice sounded small even to himself. Beck leaned even closer, putting his lips near Peter’s ear, so he felt the man’s breath hot on his skin when he answered.

“You.” The tip of his tongue flicked out and drew a path up Peter’s neck behind his ear, and Peter shivered involuntarily. “I want you naked and needy and spread out in my bed at all hours of the day for me to use as I want.” Peter was panting now, and he hated the way Beck could switch him from angry to hot liquid _want_ with just a few words.

“Yeah- well, that’s not happening.” Peter’s face pressed against the other man’s shoulder and he took a deep breath in. He regretted it immediately, the smell of the man loosened his muscles, made it hard to stand because all he wanted was to drop to his knees.

“And yet, here you are.” Beck raised a hand and gently this time sunk a hand into Peter’s hair, pulling his head back as he dipped his mouth to taste the hollow of Peter’s throat. Peter clamped his mouth shut to avoid letting out a whine, and his hands came up of their own accord to grip the man’s shirt tightly. “Begging me to touch you.”

“I- I’m not begging you to do anything, except stop threatening people I love.” Peter’s point would have been more forceful had his breath not hitched in his throat as he spoke. He shut his eyes at the onslaught to his senses. “Just stop trying to hurt people.”

Beck drew back and looked him in the eyes, considering. “And what do I get in return?” Peter blinked.

“What?” Peter grabbed the back of the couch to keep from falling over as his knees protested Beck letting him go.

Beck moved away from Peter. “If I agree, if I say I’ll stop all my activities in, say, New York City. What do I get in return? You can’t expect something for nothing, Peter, you’re smarter than that.” Beck reached the table he set his glass down on and took another sip.

“Wh-what do you want?” Peter knew what the man wanted, and he didn’t like it one bit. “I don’t, I’m not rich or anything, so I can’t give you money.” Beck laughed and it was a soft sound.

“I have no interest in your money, you know that. Come on Peter, you’re a bright kid, you can figure it out. I want you.” Peter shook his head, dismissing the idea immediately.

“No! No, no way, I’m not going to be your, your prisoner, fuckboy, whatever you want to call it. I’m not doing that. I have people to protect and I can’t if I’m here.” The thought was tempting, though, more than he wanted to admit. Being owned, told what to do and when to do it, not thinking about anything else.

“Not 24/7, no, but what about a, hmm, leave of absence?” Peter frowned, and Beck continued. “You come to me, here, whenever you patrol, and I let you go when I’m done with you. Your family doesn’t know. In return, I stop hunting you, and stop all my activities in the city. No promises for the rest of the world.” Peter contemplated the deal. It wasn’t fair, but it was more than he expected from the man.

“Why?” He knew there was more, there had to be.

“Because I want you, and I’m more than willing to put some of my other plans on hold in order to get what I want.” Peter shivered. Beck set down his drink and made his way over to Peter again. He moved slowly this time, deliberately.  
Instead of touching him, however, Beck moved past him and towards a hallway Peter didn’t recognize.

“How do I know this isn’t a trap, that you won’t cut me off and keep me here again?”

Beck shot a smirk at him over his shoulder. “Does that mean if it’s not and I don’t, you agree to my terms?” Peter shook his head weakly.

“No- that’s not what I- I didn’t mean-” Peter followed, intent on making himself clear, but stopped when Beck opened a door and slipped inside. Peter hesitated, unsure he wasn’t walking into a trap.

“This isn’t a trap, Peter.” The voice called from inside the room, and he moved to see inside. Beck pulled off his shirt and the planes of his torso stood in full display, rippling muscle that made Peter’s mouth water. He watched Beck sit on the bed and lean back against the pillows. “I’m laying out what I want. I want you, and I’m willing to bargain.” Peter took one step and then another into the room, and soon he stood at the foot of the bed, blinking.

“Why?” Peter’s voice was small, his question sincere. Beck smiled at him, not unkindly.

“Because I’m addicted to you.” He rubbed his hand over the bulge in his pants and Peter’s eyes were drawn to it. His tongue came out to wet his suddenly dry lips, and Peter took another step, leaning one knee on the bed. “Come here, Peter.” Peter knelt on the bed, walking on his knees until he sat beside Beck. Beck took his head and guided him into a kiss, not demanding this time. “Suit off.” Beck’s hands worked at the invisible fastenings of the suit and Peter let him, stripping down until he knelt naked on the bed.

He didn’t mean to reach out and touch but his hand found it’s way to the front of Beck’s pants, and he watched himself undo the button and fly, pulling the pants down so Beck lay in his briefs, tenting them obscenely.

“What does this mean?” Peter looked up and Beck caught his eyes.

“It means you have needs, Peter, and I can help. Let me. I’ll make it better.” Peter did let him, let the man tug him on top of him and position Peter so he straddled Beck’s dick, rubbing against him through one thin layer of cloth. Peter tried not to writhe on top of him, but the friction was so _good_ and he needed more, now that he was close.

Beck levered himself up and leaned over, reaching for something in the bedside table. Peter tensed, not knowing what to expect, but Beck settled again with a small bottle of lube in his hand. He handed it to Peter.

“Here. You’re going to ride me. Prep yourself.” Peter took the bottle hesitantly. He tried to focus on the other part of Beck’s offer.

“If- if I do accept, I can’t come every night. Or even every time I patrol. I have EDITH monitoring, she reports back to my family and friends. They’d notice if I disappear every night for hours.” He didn’t mention Bucky, wanting one ace up his sleeve.

“Hmm, maybe not every night, but if you’re avoiding me, I’ll let you know what I think.” Peter considered, still holding the bottle but not opening it. Beck moved his hips and Peter bit his lip against a moan.

“And you have to promise you won’t hurt anyone. Not just me and my family, anyone.” Beck rolled his eyes and stilled his hips.

“Not possible, especially if EDITH keeps score. Have you ever saved every single person?” The image of Mr. Stark flashed behind Peter’s closed eyelids and he shook his head. “Okay, so no go. How about I don’t actively set out to hurt people? I am still a hero, even if you don’t think so.” Peter thought about it.

“What about hurting people by not helping? Like with the bank robbery? You not helping when you know something bad will happen is just as bad as you doing something bad.” Hands came up to palm at his ass and he threw his head back, groaning.

_Negotiating with a clear head would probably be a better idea._

“With things like that there’s not much I can do. I don’t actually have super strength, remember?” Beck leaned forward to press a series of kisses that quickly turned into bites down Peter’s neck, nipping at his skin and marking him. “If I know Doom is planning a robotic takeover, _again_ , there’s not much I can do.” Peter shook his head.

“No, but you could tell the authorities. SHIELD, or the regular police, or something.” Beck leaned back, considering.

“Fine, if I know something big that could harm a lot of people, I’ll let the authorities know. But I reserve the right to decide _when_ I let them know, so it can’t come back and bite me in the ass.” Peter knew SHIELD would get a lot of calls five minutes before something bad happened, but even that much time made a huge difference in their ability to respond in a timely manner.

“Okay. I can live with that.” Beck smiled up at him.

“So you’re taking the deal?” Peter shook his head, not wanting to answer yet. His hips rocked against the other man, seeking friction, and he knew he fought a losing battle.

“Let me- ah, let me think for a minute.” Beck dug his fingers into Peter’s hips, grinding his dick into Peter’s ass.

“Think fast, Pete, this offer is limited time only.”

Peter’s eyes were lidded but he managed to push through the desire to bring up one more point.

“Oh, oh- you can’t tell anyone. About this, about me, about anything. The deal, what’s happening, any of it. If you do, the deal is off and I’m sending SHIELD after you.” Peter gulped, hoping his bluff wasn’t as transparent as it felt. “So you delete all your videos, and no tying me up and showing me off to other people or whatever.” The image of that had him blushing red, not as entirely opposed as he expected, but he clamped down on his reaction.

“I’ll agree not to tell anyone about you or _us_ -” Beck said ‘us’ with an excessive amount of emphasis and Peter grimaced, “but I’m keeping the video. It’s safe, on a private server so unbreakable I bet even EDITH can’t touch it, right?” Peter nodded. “And I like watching it. God, the sight of your cherry red ass as I fucked you, it’s incredible.” Peter blushed as red as his ass had been, and looked down, avoiding eye contact.

“Fine. But if it leaks, EDITH will drone strike you.” Beck laughed.

“Deal. Now are you going to ride me, or not?” Peter flipped open the cap of the lube, and squirted a little onto his palm. He hadn’t opened himself up properly before, not like it should be done, just pushed at his entrance a few times when he was jerking off, and played with the plug when he had it. He supposed he should be more nervous, but he just felt empty.

Beck watched him slick his fingers, and they both moaned as he pushed the first inside himself. Peter felt wrecked already, hips making frantic little movements as he tried to fuck down on the finger inside him and also thrust up into the empty air, but he was too far gone to care. He added another finger after a minute and hissed, flinching at the burn.

Beck’s hands steadied him, holding tight to his hips as he moved. They didn’t help, just dug into his skin creating small pinpricks of pain that helped focus the pleasure. Peter gasped, and twisted his fingers, needing more.

Once he added a third, he was almost gone already, nonsense babbling out of his mouth as he rocked for more friction, more of that hot stretch inside himself. The angle made it hard and he whined in his throat as he scrambled against Beck.

“That’s it, you’re probably good.” Beck’s hands lifted off him for precious few seconds while he shimmied out of his underwear, the last clothing between them, and Peter reached down, slicking him up. Peter knew the man likely wouldn’t wait once Peter started, so he added as much lube as he could to make the process easier.

Peter positioned his opening at the head of Beck’s dick, lining himself up. He sunk down slowly, teeth clenched as he realized three of his fingers was not enough to properly prepare himself. Beck’s hands were at his hips, pushing him down further, and he moaned, using his thighs to halt the movement until he could adjust.

Beck didn’t want to wait, however, and thrust up, pulling Peter down until he was fully seated on the man’s lap. Peter breathed heavily, hands clamped on Becks shoulders as he fought the overwhelming sensation. Beck’s hips made small rolling movements and that helped, gave him something to distract from the pain and the stretch. He focused on that feeling until he could move, rocking his hips up half an inch and then back down.

The sparks of fire that shot up his spine at that first movement energized him and he drew upwards, feeling the slick slide as his walls pulled at Beck. When he sunk down again, Beck’s eyes closed and his hands clamped down on Peter’s hips.

Peter’s pace stuttered as he noticed the effect he had on the man, and when he faltered Beck’s eyes snapped open, searching him out. “Don’t. Stop.” Peter nodded and set a brutal pace, lifting himself up and slamming back down. Beck met him thrust for thrust, and Peter had never felt fuller. The feeling was like warm honey, and soon his whole body was hot and rippling with the sensation.

As he neared climax, Peter sensed the change in Beck as well, a shuddering in his hips signaling he was close. Peter lifted up and slammed back down three or four more times and then sat up further, until Beck nearly slipped out of him, before using his considerable strength to tense his internal muscles as he let gravity pull him down. Both of them screamed and Beck’s hands tightened further as he came, leaving an impressive set of hand-shaped bruises on Peter’s hips. For his part, Peter knew Beck would sport some impressive bruises of his own as Peter’s hands dug into his shoulders; Peter hadn’t regulated his strength much, aside from not crushing the man’s shoulder blades.

Once Peter finished coming, he slumped forward, too exhausted to move. He didn’t even bother pulling off and just lay there for long moments, his face smooshed into the crook between Beck’s jawline and shoulder. Once both of their breathing returned to normal, Peter lifted himself up and pulled off, wincing.

He didn’t look at Beck, not wanting to see the smug look, and got up to find the bathroom. Peter wet some washcloths and cleaned up as well as he could. He threw one to Beck, who still lay on the bed. The cloth landed with pinpoint accuracy on Beck’s face, and the man shot up at the unexpected cold wet feeling.

Peter didn’t mean to shock him, but he laughed anyway, delighting in the disgusted look Beck gave him after pulling the rag off his nose. He used the wet washcloth to point at Peter accusingly, his eyes narrowing. “You better laugh, because there will be payback for that.” Peter stopped laughing but also felt a warm shiver run up his spine, half fear, half dirty anticipation. _God, I’m so fucked up. This is so not okay._

“I’m leaving now.” Beck nodded. “And you better keep to your promises, or else I’ll be back and it won’t be fun for you.” Beck rolled his eyes and cleaned himself up while Peter talked.

“Yeah, yeah, I better stay on the good side of the law, I get it. You’re such a girl scout, how come you never loosen up?” Peter shot him a disbelieving look and slowly dragged his eyes up his own body, still streaked with lube and come where he’d missed spots. Beck went a little glossy-eyed, and gulped. “Alright, point taken.”

Peter didn’t dignify that with a response, and instead found his spider-suit where Beck threw it onto the ground, slipping it on and only wincing a little as the movement pulled at his newly sore muscles. He didn’t give Beck a backward glance as he left the room, striding back out into the living room and shutting the door behind him.

He made for the stairs leading towards the roof, grabbing his mask off the floor where it landed before but not pulling it on yet. Peter paused before pushing open the door that led outside. “Hey, uh, EDITH?” There was a momentary pause.

“Yes, Peter?” He breathed out a sigh of relief. She was still interfaced with the tower, and heard (and probably saw) everything.

“You catch all that?” He should be embarrassed, but she’d seen him through worse, and she didn’t judge.

“I recorded the events that occurred, yes. I have also written up a document outlining the terms of your truce, should you wish to read through your agreement instead of watching the tape.” He closed his eyes for a brief second, thankful yet again for the best AI in the world.

“God, you’re the best EDITH. Can you send me a copy?”

“Certainly Peter.” He opened his eyes, and then remembered something else that had him tensing.

“Uh, EDITH? Just how angry is Bucky that I ditched him?” She took slightly longer to answer him.

“He is currently muttering under his breath in great detail about his plans to eviscerate you for getting caught, as well as whoever took you. This has been going on for approximately forty-five minutes.” Peter blinked. Had it really been that long? No, longer probably, since he instructed the AI to evade the question when Bucky asked.

“Shit. Thanks, EDITH, for letting me know. He hasn’t told Aunt May or the others?”

“He is the only one who figured out where you might be. The others still believe you to be on a patrol that went long.” Peter sighed, pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose.

“Thanks. Let Bucky know I’m on my way, don’t give him specifics. I’ll talk to him when I’m there in person.” Peter shot one more glance at the door he’d come from, and then donned his mask, not giving Karen a chance to greet him before leaving, running across the roof. He vaulted the lip of the roof and plummeted twenty stories before catching himself with his webs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to tfwfangirlsatk for beta-ing!


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes - fic tags have been updated, no, it's not reflected in this chapter. I'm still not sure if the Bucky/Peter will ever be like, a fully realized thing, but better safe than sorry. 
> 
> ALSO! If you clicked on this story, you presumably read the tags. BUT if you didn't, or if you did, go back and read/reread them. This chapter is really emotional and deals with trauma and rape, and I have been warned by the lovely tfwfangirlsatk (who is kicking ass at betaing!) that I should probably give y'all an extra warning before posting this. So be warned, things are heavy. Peter is Not Okay. 
> 
> Also also, not super relevant to this chapter but something I meant to add like, twenty chapters ago but keep forgetting - the new glasses Peter has aren't the same EDITH ones that he has in the movie - I basically saw Tom Holland at the premiere wearing his dumb adorable glasses and went 'yeah okay, that's happening'. In case you haven't seen pics: https://bit.ly/2K9nO1y (I swear that's not spam or anything, it's actually the pic I said it is)

Peter swung a few blocks before asking Karen where Bucky was; when she highlighted a path to the other man, he followed it with only a little hesitation. He knew what he was doing when he asked the AI to lie to Bucky, and now had to deal with the fallout.

Bucky was only a couple minutes away from Peter’s location, and Peter wasted no time. He didn’t want Bucky to inform the others about Peter’s drop off the grid if he could help it. 

When Peter arrived to the area Karen indicated, he dropped to the ground, scanning the area. He didn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean nobody was there. Before he could call out, a heavy hand clamped down over his mouth and an arm wrapped around his throat. 

“What do you want?” The voice in his ear was low and angry, and Peter went stiff with panic for two long seconds before remembering the lesson that afternoon. He dug in his heels as the man dragged him backwards, and brought his hands up before slapping them down, wrenching the arm away from his windpipe and whipping around, using his momentum to push the man into the wall behind him. Peter lifted his hands into the stance Bucky taught them, and turned to face - _Bucky?_

The man looked pissed, but stayed against the wall instead of straightening to face Peter. 

“Good to see you listened to anything I said to you.” Bucky spat the words, and Peter flinched. “Did you ever really give a shit? Or was it some game?” Peter fell out of the fighting stance, dropping his hands. 

“I never- it wasn’t a game.” He offered a hand to Bucky, who batted it away in favor of levering himself off the wall using the metal arm, holding his right against his body protectively like he’d injured it. Peter winced and only sheer force of will kept him from insisting he take a look. 

“Care about me, huh? Clearly, that’s why you’re running off and telling your AI to lie to me.” The pain in his voice was clear, anger barely masking the hurt. Peter fucked up, and he’d fucked up _bad_. “Look, just fuck off. I don’t need your pity or guilt or whatever the hell else it was. I can take care of myself.” He started to stalk away, but Peter blocked him from getting far. He pulled off his mask, past the point of caring if there was anyone nearby. It was late, the odds were alright that nobody would see. 

“Wait! Wait, please, let me explain.” Bucky, back held rigidly, came to a halt and gave him an unimpressed look. “Okay, so, yes, I asked EDITH to lie to you, and I’m sorry. I didn’t - I couldn’t tell you the truth.” Bucky rolled his eyes. 

“Bullshit. You didn’t want to trust me. Which is fine, I wouldn’t trust me either, but you didn’t have to be nice first.” He was moving into petulant, and Peter took that as a good sign. 

“No, that’s not it. Look, how much did Fury tell you about when I was captured?” Bucky looked up at him sharply. 

“Not much, just said you were tortured. Said the son of a bitch was still around, pretending to be a hero. Still doesn’t explain why you’d lie about wanting me as your backup. I would have been happier staying home.” Peter stepped closer and then held his hands up again when the man growled at him. 

“I did! Do, sorry, do. I _do_ want you as my backup, and I _do_ trust you to watch my back. But this was - it was different.” He winced, knowing the man wouldn’t be satisfied without the whole story, or near to it. “It wasn’t just the - the holograms he used. When I was there.” Bucky’s face dawned with realization, something dark and hurt in the corners of his eyes like he couldn’t think about what happened to Peter. It was the same expression from the morning, when he said he was there if Peter wanted to talk. Peter took a breath, and closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see the other man’s reaction. 

“He was - Beck, he’s got these drones, they’re really advanced hologram projection software. And he tricked everyone, tricked me and Fury into thinking he was a superhero. That he was a good guy from another dimension, and he helped us defeat some huge evil force. And M- Mr. Stark had just, and right before I was supposed to leave for my trip Fury said I had to save the world again, and he gave me these glasses,”

Peter was dangerously close to hyperventilating but he pushed on, knowing he either said it now or never talked about it again, “and it was really hard and Mr. Beck, he was really nice, you know? And he just seemed so _good_ and Fury said Mr. Stark left me the glasses and I know I don’t deserve them, hell, _nobody_ should have them, but if I wanted to take my stupid vacation someone else needed to fight, so I gave them to him. To Beck, I mean.” He couldn’t stand still, so he opened his eyes, pacing while he talked and keeping his gaze trained on the ground in front of him, unable to even look in Bucky’s direction. 

“And when I gave them to him I _really_ gave them to him, not like I did with you. So he got everything, the tech, the drones, the holograms, and the power to pretty much do whatever he wanted. When I figured out it wasn’t real, he just wanted it to fake being a hero for the money and stuff, it was too late. I confronted him, and he was just - it was too much, and I thought I could do it but my senses were still on the fritz so I didn’t realize he had a gun to my head and then I don’t know, I think he must have stuck me with something because the next thing I remember is waking up in hell.” Tears came to his eyes unbidden and he brushed them away, angry but unable to keep them from welling up. 

“And I had to watch him kill them, all of them, over and over again, and it was awful like I was falling and couldn’t catch myself and then it would just start again and I couldn’t move, he had me strapped down like that and I couldn’t - I couldn’t move. No matter what I did I couldn’t move.” Peter trailed off momentarily, lost in the memories. 

After a few moments he found his words again. “An-And when he came to me, the first time, I thought it was just more holograms, you know? But he was real and he was _there_ , and it was, it was incredible, feeling something, it had been so long since I’d been able to touch something that wasn’t holding me down that I let him - I let him do what he wanted.” 

Bucky’s breathing hitched on either a sob or a sharp inhale, but Peter didn’t look over to verify. “And he was - and I - and it wasn’t bad, you know? You’d think it would be awful, but it was being _touched_ and on my _skin_ and I didn’t fight as much as I should have and I know why I didn’t but it doesn’t make me feel any less dirty. And it happened again, and again, and eventually he let me have a bed, and food, and I figured out how to trick him into giving me EDITH back, and she helped me get out. But I should have been better, I could have gotten out earlier if I’d been, I don’t know, stronger or something. ” 

“ _No_.” It was the first thing Bucky said since Peter started talking, and Peter didn’t let him get any further. 

“ _Yes_. Yes I could have, there had to be something. He - He gave me a lot of freedom near the end and I didn’t even think to hit the walls since he said they were unbreakable, but they weren’t, he just - he just said they were.” His voice got smaller as he talked, and he hunched forward. 

Peter gripped one wrist with the other, holding himself together. He’d seen Mr. Stark do the same thing, before, but Mr. Stark said it was an old injury that hurt when he was stressed. The pressure, the bite of his fingernails on the soft skin on the inside of Peter’s wrist helped focus the thoughts whirling at fifteen hundred miles per hour, and he dug his nails in. 

“I let him - and I don’t - and I can’t seem to keep away from him, even after - I got out, and I’m free but he’s still coming after me and I’m not strong enough to say no so I come when he calls, and I - I don’t hate it. I hate myself for not hating it, but I don’t hate it.” A rush of air from somewhere behind him let him know Bucky was still there, but Peter didn’t pay him any attention. Couldn’t. Now it was all out in the open, and it felt worse than when it was just inside him. Inside him, it was ugly but the only danger was to himself. Now it had the potential to infect everyone he cared about. 

A warm hand settled on his shoulder and he jumped, not expecting the touch. The hand was removed swiftly. 

“Shit, sorry, is that - is it okay if I touch you?” Bucky’s voice was scared, and Peter nodded jerkily. 

“Yeah, ‘s fine, I just didn’t expect it.” He shrugged and the hand came back to his shoulder, rubbing gently. It felt nice. “T’s nice.” He slurred, drowsy with spent energy. His head lolled back and he kept his eyes closed, not wanting to see Bucky’s expression. 

“So, tonight, when you told EDITH to lie to me?” Bucky’s voice was hesitant. Peter didn’t like scaring him. Didn’t want to scare him.

“Yeah, he told me to come. We’ve got a truce now, I guess. Made a trade. Not sure if I can trust him, but I can’t have EDITH blow him up or anything. It would hurt too much.” Bucky’s hands left his shoulders and Peter nearly protested, but, well. _It’s probably for the best._

The hands came back though, guiding him with a few light touches to the shoulders and wrists until he sat on a bench nearby. Peter let Bucky sit him down, not protesting. 

“Peter, you’re, I’m-” He faltered, lost for words, and Peter waved a hand in his direction. 

“Yeah, I know, I really am sorry. I didn’t want to lie to you, I just, I couldn’t say anything. You know?” Bucky nodded. “I’m glad you know. Well, no, I wish you didn’t know what I’m talking about because that would be better for you, but you know what I mean.” Bucky shook his head and tried again. 

“No, I’m not - Jesus kid, how could you think I’m still mad at you?” Peter shrugged again. “I’m - I’m trying my hardest not to find him and kill him because you asked me not to, but I’m not mad at you.” Peter should have been scared of that, of Bucky, but he wasn’t. He just felt cold. 

“You should be.” Bucky opened his mouth to argue but couldn’t find the words. Peter kept talking. “I let him go, and I’m probably going to keep letting him go. It would be better for everyone if he was dead, or if I was, but I can’t do it, and I won’t let you get more blood on your hands. He’s going to keep hurting people until he kills someone and that’ll be my fault. It’ll - It’ll be my fault.” Peter shook, he realized, but not from cold. Bucky reached out a hand, glacially slow, and took one of Peter’s in his own. 

“It’s not your fault if he hurts someone. It’s his. He hurt you, and it’s not your fault.” Peter nodded, it was the kind of statement that probably deserved a nod. He wasn’t sure. 

“Okay.” Bucky kept the hold on his hand, and Peter didn’t pull away. Bucky’s hands were bigger, his grip warm and sturdy. “I should probably get back, the others are probably waiting up for me. I don’t want May to worry.” Peter tried to stand, and it took him a couple tries but he finally made it. “I can tell them you got a call from Fury for a mission or something.” He turned, but didn’t make it far as Bucky stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. 

“What are you talking about?” The confusion in Bucky’s voice confused Peter. 

“What do you mean?” Peter asked. Bucky gently turned him so they faced each other again. 

“Do - Do you not want me to come back with you?” Peter blinked. Bucky’s voice was uncharacteristically hesitant, his expression open but it was hurt, not disgust, Peter saw in his eyes. Bucky continued, “I don’t have to, I just thought - it was stupid, of course, I’ll let you go.” The hands dropped from his, and Bucky stepped back. 

“Wait, don’t leave.” Peter’s voice was too high and Bucky stopped, looking at Peter. “I just thought - you said you wanted to go. Before. I thought you’d want to go even more now.” Something in the other man’s expression broke, and Peter found himself crushed against the man’s chest in a bruising hug. 

“God, shit, sorry - I wasn’t thinking, didn’t realize -” Bucky tried to disentangle himself but Peter stopped him, clinging on for dear life as he stifled his breathing in the other man’s shirt, listened to the steady beat of his heart. Bucky realized Peter wanted to get closer, not get away, and stopped trying to push himself off, holding Peter until he was ready to let go. 

“You can stay. If you want. Of course you can stay.” Peter sounded breathless to his own ears, and he eventually pushed off of Bucky, letting him go. “But we should probably get back.” Bucky nodded. 

“Good plan. I’ve got - here, clothes. Just pull them on over your suit, it’s dark enough that nobody will notice.” He slipped the bag off his shoulders and handed it to Peter, who reached in and pulled out his clothes. He tugged them on quickly and Bucky slipped the glasses out of one of his pockets and handed them to Peter. “I - I didn’t want to wear them, I wasn’t thinking straight.” Peter accepted that with a nod, and slipped the glasses on. 

“Hi EDITH. How much did you hear?” She didn’t respond right away. 

“I heard all of your conversation with Mr. Barnes, Peter. I can erase the footage, if you like.” Peter shrugged. 

“You don’t have to erase it, just make sure nobody else finds it?” She gave him an affirmative beep. “And maybe delete any footage of me without the mask, if there are any security cameras around.” Another confirming note. Bucky gave Peter a look but didn’t say anything as they started walking. They were quite a ways from the safe house, but they made good time and walked quickly through the nearly empty streets. 

Bucky kept looking at Peter sideways, like he wasn’t sure of anything Peter said. Peter didn’t know how to take that, so he didn’t ask and pretended he didn’t see the looks. Once they got to their street, Peter turned to Bucky and stopped walking. 

“We should probably have a story. If - If you don’t mind, that is, I don’t- I haven’t told anyone anything.” Bucky flinched, and Peter regretted his choice of words. “I mean, I told you, of course, you’re not nobody.” He hurried to correct himself, and Bucky held up a hand to stop him. 

“Peter, it’s fine, that’s not - it’s fine. Having a story is fine.” Bucky held out a hand like he wanted to rest it on Peter’s shoulder, but thought better of it. 

Peter played with the zipper of the backpack on his shoulder as he talked, not making eye contact. “Okay. So, uh, I dunno, we got carried away, ended up pretty far out and had to hike back?” 

Bucky nodded. “That’s fine. I say we tell them we’re tired and go upstairs.” This time it was Peter’s turn to flinch, and Bucky’s eyes widened. “Not - Not like that, shit, of course not like that. I would never - I can sleep on the floor, or take the couch if you don’t want me in the room with you, of course, whatever you want.” 

“It’s fine, I just, it’s been a long day.” Bucky held back his flinch at that, but he still felt a jolt of something right where his heart used to be. He used to think HYDRA removed it entirely to make room for more ways to kill people, but after the past few days he wasn’t so sure. He turned to face the street again and started walking, hoping Peter would follow. He breathed a sigh of relief when Peter did. 

When they got inside, they found everyone wearing pajamas and sipping May’s tea while watching reruns on mute. May stood when they came in, and Peter noticed MJ and Ned were both half asleep in their mugs. He felt the impact of guilt slicing through him at them waiting up for him, but brushed off May’s worried hands, telling her he got caught up having fun and didn’t realize how late it was until they were pretty far away. 

Bucky cut in smoothly, letting May reprimand him for not getting Peter back earlier and Peter gave him a thankful smile behind May’s back. Eventually she let them go, promising to wake the other two and get them upstairs. 

Peter trudged up the stairs to the bedroom they shared, and Bucky puttered around in the kitchen for a few minutes to give the teen some privacy. He ended up making himself tea, and finally headed up once it finished steeping. 

When he pushed the door to their room open Peter wasn’t in the room, but running water in the bathroom let him know where the boy was. Bucky set the tea down on his nightstand and sat awkwardly on the edge of the bed after changing into sleep pants. 

The door pushed open after a few more moments and Peter’s slender frame entered, cutting off a yawn with one hand. He’d already changed into his pajama pants as well, and Bucky’s eyes softened as he looked at him. Peter looked up to see Bucky sitting there. 

“Were you going to go to bed now? I’m pretty tired, so I’m gonna sleep, but if you wanted the light on for a while to write-” Peter’s words were sleepy and soft, and Bucky fought the urge to swaddle him in blankets. 

“No, it’s fine, I’m good to sleep. I just wanted to make sure you were, uh, comfortable with me being here. Still.” Peter blinked at him. 

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Peter walked over to the bed as he talked, and pulled the covers back, settling on the furthest edge from Bucky. 

“Just, wanted to be sure. Okay, I can get the light.” Bucky stood, glad he’d changed while Peter was in the bathroom, and walked over to hit the switch next to the door. By the time he made it back to the bed in the darkness, he could tell Peter was already asleep by the way his breathing slowed and evened out. Bucky pulled back his side of the covers carefully and slipped in, careful to stay on his side. He was awake for a while longer, his mind a whirl or thoughts, but eventually he drifted off into a restless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, Peter Parker needs *all* the hugs. I'm sorry. This is the second (along with yesterday's) chapter I'm really proud of the writing for, but my god was it emotionally draining and unpleasant to write.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't yet, def check out the story I wrote yesterday instead of working on OSFTSB - it's super trope-y and I had a lot of fun! Probably going to add other one-shots in that universe at some point, because I'm garbage and I love all the dumb tropes that've been done a million times. Yes, 'that've' is a word. Y'all, that've, y'all'd've and others are all words. The English language is constantly evolving and it is beautiful.

Bucky woke quietly, unsure what roused him. He didn’t move right away and kept his eyes closed, assessing the situation for threats. When he didn’t hear any, he opened his eyes, sitting up slowly. It was very early morning, as evidenced by a glance at the dark windows, and Bucky looked towards the other side of the bed to see Peter tossing and turning in his sleep. 

Peter reached a hand up and paused for a moment. “No - don’t - please-” Bucky’s insides clenched at the sound of the boy in distress, and he put a hand on Peter’s shoulder. 

“Peter? Hey, Peter, wake up. You’re having a bad dream.” Bucky pitched his voice low and soothing and didn’t try to shake Peter or jolt him awake. He just left his hand on Peter’s shoulder, speaking soothingly to him.   
After a minute, Peter roused, eyes fluttering. 

“Whu-? Where - Where am I?” He was still mostly asleep, and Bucky rubbed Peter’s shoulder in small circles. “Are you - what do you want? Go away!” Bucky didn’t expect Peter to respond with anger, and he was unprepared when Peter grabbed the hand on his shoulder, wrenching it off and shoving Bucky back with most of his strength. And it was a lot of strength. 

Bucky was thrown away from Peter, landing nearly off the bed. Peter was fast though, and he straddled Bucky an instant later, one hand at his throat. Bucky froze, knowing the teen could easily kill him, enhanced or not. Peter didn’t tighten his grip, just lay his hand down and pressed to remind that he could. 

Bucky’s hands were by his head and he looked at Peter, still mostly asleep. “Peter, it’s me. Bucky. I woke you up because you had a bad dream. I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I wouldn’t hurt you.” He hoped Peter heard the truth in his words, the boy would never forgive himself if he killed Bucky - even if it was an accident. 

Peter faltered, and his eyes widened, focusing on Bucky’s face for the first time. 

“Bu - Bucky? What? I was- I thought I was- Where is he?” His face lost the anger and he just looked lost, unsure of what happened. 

“He’s gone, he isn’t here.” Peter took his hand off Bucky’s throat and Bucky made no move to sit up, but took a chance and reached one hand up to place it back on Peter’s shoulder. “You got away from him, you’re safe.” Bucky didn’t know what he expected Peter to do, but bursting into tears at those words wasn’t it. He found himself pushed against the pillows on the edge of the bed, except now Peter wrapped around Bucky’s midsection, face pressed into his neck. 

Hot tears fell wetly against his skin, and Bucky froze, unsure how to respond to the boy. Eventually he wrapped his arms around Peter and rubbed at his back, running fingers through his hair every once in a while. 

Peter cried himself out, and when he finally caught his breath again, he reached blindly for the tissue box on the side table. Bucky found it first, longer arms proving superior, and pressed a handful into Peter’s grip. Peter nodded and wiped at his face. 

He finished scrubbing the snot and tears off slowly, not looking Bucky in the eyes. When he was done, Peter unwrapped himself from around Bucky’s waist, unsure. “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make such a mess. Or to almost kill you, shit, I did that, didn’t I?” Peter’s hands trembled and Bucky took them in his own, tugging gently until Peter looked at him. 

“You had a bad dream. It happens to everyone.” Peter wasn’t convinced, but Bucky kept talking. “Us more than most I’d guess, with how much we’ve seen. And it’s okay.” He rubbed at Peter’s hands with his, keeping him warm and reminding him of the contact. “It’s okay to not be okay. You don’t need to always be strong. Leaning on your family and your friends is allowed.” Peter almost started crying again at the words, but he took a few deep breaths and held it together. 

“I - I thought you were him.” Bucky couldn’t help his flinch, and he let go of Peter’s hands. Peter made a small noise and reached out for him, taking his hands again. Bucky let him, unsure where he was going. “No, no, it wasn’t - not like that. I just, usually he stayed the night, and I get nightmares if I’m not with someone, and we - last night he-” Bucky wrapped his fingers around Peter’s once more and quieted him with the simple pressure. 

“Can I do anything to help?” He kept his question neutral, not wanting to spook Peter any more than he already was. Peter shook his head, his nose almost touching Bucky’s chest again. 

“No, no, it’s fine. I need to sleep - I should just - go back to sleep, I guess.” He pulled away and Bucky let him. Peter hesitated before actually letting go of his hands, and Bucky made his decision. 

“I don’t know if I can fall back asleep, once my body is up it’s up.” Before Peter could look distressed, he added, “but I usually don’t need as much sleep anyway because of the enhancements so I’ll probably be getting up at this time most mornings anyway. I’m going to see if there’s anything worth watching on TV, do you want to come with?” Peter hesitated and then nodded, looking up at Bucky. 

“Y-Yeah, if you don’t mind. I can sleep on the couch, being alone wouldn’t be great.” He looked a little queasy at the thought and Bucky nodded. 

“Good, you can educate me on what there is on TV at this time of night.” Peter brightened a little and nodded. 

“Yeah! I mean, right now there’s probably nothing on, but we’ve got Netflix, right?” His eyes widened and he reached over to his side to grab the EDITH glasses and slip them onto his face. “Sorry, EDITH, I forgot I wasn’t wearing the glasses. Do we have access to Netflix?” Bucky watched the boy as he listened to the response, his face unguarded. He was free with his emotions, and Bucky hadn’t seen that from anyone in so long that some part of him forgot how easy it was to read every thought in someone's face without second-guessing it. He closed down that avenue of thought almost as soon as it started, not wanting to make the boy uncomfortable. 

“Oh wow, did you hear that?” Bucky grinned and shook his head no. “Oh, right, sorry. She said Mr. Stark owned a stake in Netflix, like, a big one! I wonder if we could get the details for the shows coming out soon? No, I guess it would be worse to know and not be able to talk about it, so don’t tell me.” 

He waved one hand in the air, shooing away a display only he could see. “Anyway, she said we’ve got Netflix, and lots of money to buy anything they don’t have. I was thinking a cooking show, those are good for early morning as long as they don’t have too much shouting. I really liked this one where they made fancy cakes and they were really pretty, but I forget what it was called. EDITH, do you know - oh wow, how many shows are there? That’s so many, how did they make so many shows about cake?”

Peter led Bucky downstairs, whispering animatedly about cake and cooking shows, and Bucky followed willingly. Peter didn’t realize he still held one of Bucky’s hands, and Bucky found himself loathe to dislodge the grip. As they settled onto the couch, Peter hesitated again. Bucky looked at him and saw Peter sitting exactly far enough away so they didn’t touch, and dropped Bucky’s hand. 

Bucky looked at him and raised an eyebrow wordlessly. Peter shrugged, not making eye contact again. “If - if you don’t wanna, I understand, but I hoped-” Bucky leaned back against the armrest of the couch, hooking an arm over the back and making himself as inviting as possible. Peter didn’t need any more invitation and snuggled close, face pressed against Bucky’s ribs and arms snaking around him. “Thanks. I know it’s weird, you’re supposed to not want to touch people after- well, I don’t have that, I need people to keep me grounded.” Bucky ran one hand through his hair, and Peter’s eyes drifted shut for a moment before he opened them again. 

Bucky took the glasses off Peter’s face and slipped them on his own instead. “EDITH, can you put on the show Peter wanted? Low volume, keep the lights low but not fully off?” EDITH didn’t respond right away, and Bucky knew why she hesitated. “If you need me to have him confirm I can, but-” the response cut him off. 

“No, he is almost asleep, do not wake him.” Bucky smiled. He knew the AI had a soft spot for Peter, it was impossible not to. The TV clicked on and switched to a show where someone held a big bag of frosting. 

“Thanks, EDITH.” He ran his hand through Peter’s hair again in wonder. “And thanks, you know, for looking out for him. I know you took care of him through some bad stuff, and I wanted to thank you for everyone else for making sure he got through it alive.” 

Her response surprised him. “Well, Peter is - he’s special. And you’ve seen how much he needs physical reassurance of the world around him, much as I try, I cannot provide that to either his satisfaction or mine. Thank you, Mr. Barnes, for helping to take care of him as well.” For the first time in a very long time, Bucky smiled without thinking too hard about the reason why. He was happy, and he wanted to stay that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to the wonderful tfwfangirlsatk for beta-ing this! She kills it every time! :)


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Miiighhttt be a bit confusing but bear with me on this - and yes, all the names are correct.

Peter straddled Bucky’s hips, grinding against him. Bucky’s hands drew up his sides, teasing the skin there and Peter stifled a chuckle.

“Ticklish,” he explained when Bucky looked at him questioningly. “You, the light touches tickle.” Bucky grinned and it wasn’t the warm, happy ones Peter expected from the man - it was a hungry grin, all promise and want. His hands flattened over Peter’s sides and gripped him, hands stroking down Peter’s flanks. The firmer touch did funny things to Peter’s insides, and he leaned forward to kiss Bucky again, twisting his hands in Bucky’s hair and tugging.

“Come on, touch me like you mean it,” Peter demanded, and Bucky growled at him.

“You keep asking for that, Peter, you know what they say about getting what you wish for.” Peter yelped as Bucky flipped them, pinning Peter down and grinding against him. His hands held Peter’s above his head, and Peter wriggled but couldn’t get free.

“You - you’re strong - fuck,” Peter panted now, trying in earnest to break free, and the hands around his wrists tightened. The kisses down his neck were rougher, and he arched into them, needing the harsh touches. “Fuck, come on, I need more - please-”

Beck looked up from where he kissed down to Peter’s stomach, and grinned at him. “Oh, so now it’s please?” Peter whimpered and shook his head, still arching into the other man’s touches. “Come on Peter, tell me what you want.” Peter couldn’t speak, he wasn’t getting enough air, but his body still felt so good and he couldn’t control himself.

——

“Oh - Oh, _fuck_.” Peter woke up, coming back into consciousness all at once. He winced as he realized what the sticky feeling in his boxers meant, and froze at a hand carding through his hair. Peter seriously considered the best way to quietly leave and never make eye contact with anyone ever again, before discarding the idea.

_If you’re going to leave your friends and family and never see them again, you might as well take Beck up on the offer to be his sexual play toy._

Bucky’s hands in his hair felt good, and Peter let himself close his eyes for a moment, taking in the soothing feeling. He didn’t know how loud he was during his _dream_ and he wasn’t sure what the other man knew. Maybe, just maybe, the super-soldier with heightened senses who trained as a spy assassin didn’t notice Peter coming in his pants like a child while draped over his lap. Maybe.

“Peter?” The voice was soft and non-judgmental, and Peter cracked his eyes open at the light question. “Are you okay? You were mumbling in your sleep, I didn’t catch what you said. I wanted to make sure you didn’t have another nightmare.” He pressed his face deeper into Bucky’s soft shirt, trying to hide the blush and failing miserably.

“’M fine, thanks, I should-” Peter pulled away, disentangling his arms from around Bucky. “I should go, change and shower and stuff.” He tried not to look uncomfortable at the mess in his pants, and wasn’t sure he succeeded. Bucky gave him a measured look, but nodded. “I - don’t really remember the dream, uh, but thanks for waking me up. Again.” He scratched at the back of his neck.

Bucky looked like he wanted to ask Peter more, but Peter left before he could, walking quickly towards the stairs. By the angle of the sun, it was late morning and he heard MJ and May in the kitchen, making breakfast. Peter didn’t stop to see, and ran up the stairs, grateful he didn’t run into anyone else.

Once he was in his room alone, Peter stopped. He grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his legs. He stuck his head into the hallway, and seeing nobody, ducked into the bathroom. Once he was safely inside with the door locked behind him, Peter allowed himself a sigh before turning on the water and peeling himself out of his clothes. He used the soiled boxers to wipe up the worst of the mess, rolling them in his shirt to conceal what happened before tossing them in the hamper.

The water heated up fast, and he hopped into the shower, letting the water run scalding over his back. It was too hot to be entirely comfortable, but that was what he wanted. Clearly, there was something seriously wrong with him. _You_ just _told him what happened to you last night, and you’re dreaming about him. While sleeping on top of him._

Peter wanted to be disgusted with himself, but the images from his dream were seared into his brain, and they wouldn’t go away. _Bucky, big hands pinning Peter as he kissed down his torso, Peter writhing under his ministrations._ Peter felt himself already hardening again at the thoughts, and glared down, willing away the unwanted arousal. He reached behind him and turned the hot water as high as it would go, letting the searing water turn his skin bright pink as his healing combated the water temperature. Eventually, the erection went away and he got out of the shower after washing up.

He wrapped the towel around himself again, hoping for a few minutes to himself before facing the others. As he slipped out of the bathroom he surreptitiously checked the hallway, but as far as he could tell everyone was downstairs.

Cracking the door to his shared room, Peter slipped inside with quiet footsteps and turned to see Bucky standing in the middle of the room, shirtless, in the process of changing. Peter stopped dead in his tracks, unwilling to process the image in front of him.

Bucky turned, hearing the door open, and gave Peter a sheepish half smile as he slipped on the shirt in his hands. “Sorry, I thought you’d be longer. I’ll get out of your hair.” He walked past Peter, opened the door, and slipped out. Peter sat heavily on the bed, frowning when he realized the erection from before was back, and wouldn’t be banished so easily this time.

Peter sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to focus on the important changes of the past twenty-four hours. He was still free. He had a tentative truce with Beck, trading sex for protection (that he had no idea how to explain to May, MJ, and Ned) which meant he and his family were safe for the moment, no matter the other costs. And he had a lot of pent up lust for the man he happened to share a bed with. Great.

Before Peter could put much thought into willing away the unwanted erection _again_ , he noticed the EDITH glasses sitting on his nightstand. He he wore them downstairs the night before, but Bucky must have taken them off him when he fell asleep and left them there for him. A pang of guilt at his mixed feelings for the man who’d been nothing but supportive to him had him reaching out to grab the glasses, slipping them on. He waited for the screens to load and nodded his hello to EDITH.

“EDITH, did I fall asleep wearing the glasses last night? I mean after I woke up the first time, and Bucky and I went downstairs.” He waited for her answer, twisting the corner of his towel as she booted up.

“You wore the glasses downstairs, and Mr. Barnes removed them as you fell asleep. He requested I put on a television show, and did not have any additional orders afterwords. Once you woke up, he took the glasses and left them for you while you were out of the room.” Peter swore he heard fondness in her voice, but he wasn’t sure.

“Thanks, EDITH.” Peter slipped them back off, and finished drying himself off. He ignored his dick for as long as he could, but it was insistent, and he sighed before taking himself in hand. He didn’t want to think about his dream, or think about Bucky at all, really, since he knew the man went through a lot and he didn’t want him feeling uncomfortable, but it was either him or Beck. Peter closed his eyes, trying to imagine faceless hands finishing him off, but it always returned to one of the two men.

He moved faster, trying to get it over with, and with one last twist of his wrist he came unexpectedly, cutting off a moan of “B-” by slapping his other hand over his mouth. He wasn’t sure whose name he wanted to say, either.

Peter grabbed the tissue box off the side table and cleaned himself up, wiping at the cooling come with efficient swipes. He threw the whole pile of tissues into the garbage, on top of the ones from the night before after he cried all over Bucky, and wasn’t that a thought. Peter rolled his eyes at himself and stuck a hand in the garbage, squishing everything down so it didn’t look as suspicious.

He pulled on his clothes and ran a hand through his hair, fluffing it before patting it back down into place. When he finally felt as ready to go as he could, he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.

Downstairs in the kitchen, May and MJ were finishing up a batch of pancakes, and they both looked up when Peter walked in. May smiled at him, MJ gave a nod.

“Peter! I’m glad you’re finally up, you slept so late we started to worry.” May set the plate of pancakes down on the table before grabbing a stack of places for everyone. “But Bucky explained you were up in the middle of the night, helping him with a nightmare, so we let you sleep.” Peter blinked. Bucky both lied to his aunt, _for him_ , and got away with it.

“Uh, yeah, nightmare. But it was fine, we watched TV and I ended up falling back to sleep.” He nodded.

MJ crossed to the doorway to the living room, cupping her hands and calling out. “Bucky, Ned, breakfast is done.” Shuffling sounds came from the other room, and Ned appeared first, followed by Bucky. Peter gave Bucky a questioning gaze, but the other man studiously avoided his eyes.

Ned came around the table, and picked up a place. “Peter! Bucky was helping me with the Lego Death Star, it’s really awesome! We’re like, a third of the way done. Did you want to help after breakfast?” He loaded pancakes onto his plate as he talked.

Peter accepted the plate that May handed him, and took a few pancakes for himself. “Yeah, uh, sure. What part did you start with?”

“The base, duh, it’s a circle and you can’t just start in the middle since it could fall apart.” Peter listened to Ned ramble on about the Lego's and how cool it was that Bucky’s hand could reach places Ned couldn’t, with the dexterity of the metal fingers.

Once Ned had wound down on the topic of Lego's, he turned back to Peter, hesitation clear in the set of his jaw.

“So, Peter?” Peter gestured that Ned continue. “Uh - I was wondering, I told my parents that I was staying at a friend’s house for a few days, but they’ve been texting me and stuff, wondering when I would be back. If it’s not safe, I get that, but what should I tell them?” Peter sighed, he hoped to avoid the topic a little longer, but at least he had an answer.

“You should be okay to go.” Ned blinked, clearly not expecting that answer. “I-I ran into Beck last night-” May gasped, and everyone except Bucky looked at Peter in shocked horror. “Yeah, I know, I just didn’t want to talk about it when I got back. But we talked, and we’ve got a truce. Or something. So you should be okay to go home, if your parents want you to.” May turned to Bucky.

“Did you know about this? Were you there?” Bucky nodded slightly.

“I knew, but I wasn’t there, Peter asked me to stand guard.” Peter winced internally at the lie, grateful for Bucky’s delivery but not that he had to lie for him. “But I knew he was safe, May, EDITH would have let me know if Peter was in danger at all.”

May still wasn’t happy. “But if he was in danger, and you couldn’t get to him in time?” Bucky grimaced, but looked at her, jaw set.

“Peter is a very capable young man, and he would do fine under the circumstances. I trust him, and he trusted me.” May pursed her lips but didn’t argue further.

“So - So I could leave? Right now, and just, go home?” Ned’s voice broke through the tension in the room, and Peter looked to him gratefully.

“Yeah, I think the truce is good, at least for the moment. Beck knows I’ll drone strike him if he tries anything. But obviously, I’m still not one hundred percent okay with everyone splitting up and going our separate ways, since I don’t trust Beck as much as he’d like.” Peter looked to May. “If you don’t mind, I’d prefer to stay here a while longer, at least until we know it’s safe.” He turned to MJ and Ned. “But you guys should be okay to leave, if you want. I’d like to go back with you, just to be on the safe side, but you should be alright.” They nodded.

MJ spoke up for the first time that morning. “My parents don’t really care, so if you think it’s safer, I’ll stay if that’s cool.” Peter nodded.

“Yeah, you’re all welcome to stay as long as you want.” Peter shot a glance to Bucky, who nodded.

“I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.” He sounded a little suspicious, but Peter couldn’t blame him after the night they had.

“Of course, you’re all welcome here.” May nodded in agreement.

Ned raised his hand again. “I would, but my parents won’t let me live here for the rest of the summer. If I could go home I’d appreciate it, so they stop texting me.” Peter nodded.

“Yeah, of course. Today?” Ned nodded. “Once you’re packed up, EDITH can order you a car back, and I can go with you to make sure Beck isn’t watching your place or something.” Ned’s eyes widened at the implication, but he stayed silent.

“I can come too, I know how to look for surveillance.” Bucky sounded hollow, but Peter knew better. The man wanted to belong to a family so badly, he couldn’t think about the possibility of any of them being hurt, even after such a short time together.

“So it’s settled, we can take you back this afternoon. Did you want to come, to grab some more stuff from your place, MJ?” She nodded, and stood up from the table.

“Yeah, I’ll make a list of what I need. Let me know when you’re ready.” She cleared her plate and placed it in the sink before leaving the room. Ned stood as well, copying her without a word and scurrying towards the stairs.

May looked from Bucky to Peter and back again, assessing. “I know something more happened last night than you just talking with Beck and making a truce, but if you don’t want to tell me, that’s okay.” Peter felt a wave of relief wash over him at her words. “But I just need to be sure you’re safe, and nobody is getting hurt. Is that the case?” Peter nodded, and Bucky did as well after long moments. “Good. Okay, boys, I’m going to change as well and get ready, because after days stuck in here, I’m ready to leave too. I want to go back to our apartment and grab some of our stuff, now that we know we’re staying a little longer.” Peter wanted to protest, but she was right. Either the truce held, or it wouldn’t, and he just needed to let it happen.

She left, and Peter and Bucky were alone.

Peter spoke first. “Thanks. For, for everything, I mean. I appreciate you wanting to help my family, and stuff, yeah, just, thanks.” Bucky nodded stiffly.

“Yeah, you’re - you guys mean a lot to me. And I wanted to thank you too, for - for telling me everything.” Bucky looked uncomfortable, but pushed on. “And I meant what I said yesterday, that you can talk to me about any of it. I’m not going to tell anyone else if you don’t want, but you should have someone to talk to.” Peter nodded, unable to look at him.

“Thanks. I - I might. This truce, I did promise more than I said to May and the others, but it’s not, it’s not something I could tell them.” Bucky frowned. “But I’ll be okay, it’s not bad. Just - not something I wanted to talk about.” Peter finished in a small voice, and didn’t make eye contact with the other man. He got up from the table and put his own plate in the sink before leaving the room, not looking back at Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to the hella rad tfwfangirlsatk for beta-ing! And for reminding me that sometimes it's okay to skip to the good parts that I want to write, ha.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There has been a lot of all caps and exclamation marks from tfwfangirlsatk (kickass beta extraordinaire) about this chapter and how I totally didn't get to the good part soon enough, and she's probably right. Whoops :P sue me, I like all the little details (plus, now you'll know how Peter Parker feels!)

Peter was halfway up the stairs when EDITH blinked to life in his glasses.

“Peter?” He stopped, one foot on the top step.

“Yeah, EDITH?” She sounded confused, and he wasn’t sure what he expected.

“I’ve got a message to you, from the asshole.” Peter froze, not even breathing. “He wants to send you something. I’ve looked over his selection and from what I can tell, it’s legitimate and not harmful. He requested I draw funds from his account and complete the delivery myself, so he cannot access your current address as a show of good faith for your truce.” Peter breathed again, and quickly stepped into his room, contemplating her words.

“What is it? Did he say why he wanted to send it?” An image blinked onto the readout and Peter goggled for a second before throwing a hand up, shielding the glasses so nobody else could see it, despite being alone. “Oh. What?”

“He requested I remind you of the payback he promised you, and that you wear them until the next time he sees you as a show of good faith in the truce as well.” Peter grimaced. It was also an excellent way to make sure Peter went back sooner than later, since he couldn’t go a day wearing _those_ without finding the man and fucking his brains out. “I have created the order in the website database, I just need your okay to send it. If I send it to a dummy address and have it privately couriered to you, there is no way for the asshole to trace the delivery, even if he hacks the website data.”

Peter considered it. It was demeaning and childish of Beck to insist he wear _that_ , but at the same time, the man _was_ showing his commitment to not finding out where Peter or his family were. Maybe he could stick to the truce for the time being.

“Uh, yeah, go ahead and get them, I guess. How long will it take for delivery?” He sounded _eager._ Peter hated it but he was looking forward to getting them, just a little bit.

“They will arrive for you this afternoon, likely around one. I scheduled the car to take Ned home and pick up things for May and MJ for two, so you should receive the package before you leave.” Peter sighed. He hoped to get a full day before dealing with Beck again, but clearly the man intended to drive him crazy.

Before he could respond to EDITH, there was a knock on the door and Peter looked up. Bucky cracked the door and peeked inside, opening it wider when he saw Peter sitting on the bed.

“May wanted me to let you know we’re going to play board games for a while, since Ned is packing. Did you see how much stuff he brought? It looks like a tornado blew through his room.” Bucky’s incredulous tone made Peter chuckle, and Bucky cracked a smile as well.

“Yeah, he’s always been like that. Let May know I’ll be down in a few minutes? I’m talking to EDITH about something, not anything bad, just logistics.” Bucky gave him a look but nodded, closing the door. Peter sighed, running his hands over his face. “EDITH, let the asshole know that I agreed, and that he’s an asshole. And that if he tries _anything_ , he’s toast.”

“With pleasure, Peter.” The display readout blinked off and Peter let his eyes close behind the glasses. _I’m so fucked._

Downstairs, when Peter finally joined the rest of the gang (minus Ned) they had found a set of Monopoly and were setting up the game. Peter stopped in his tracks when he saw their choice of game.

“What? Is this the only game we have? You do realize we’re going out today, right?” May nodded but kept setting out small piles of brightly colored bills.

“We can leave it in the middle if we need to, but come on, this is too good of an opportunity to pass up.” Peter looked at her quizzically, and she grinned. “It’s _Tony Stark’s_ Monopoly game! He’d probably play with real money. Come on, Peter, it’s worth doing just to say we did.” Hurt lanced through Peter’s heart at the reminder of his mentor, but he smiled at the group and sat down to play.

May dealt him in, and they started playing. Bucky wasn’t sure of the rules and Peter and MJ differed drastically on what the correct way to play was, so by the time a compromise was reached, it was nearly noon already.

Peter got caught up in the game, and he didn’t realize the time until a knock on the door sounded at a quarter to one. Everyone looked up, confused, and then looked to Peter.

“Did you say EDITH got us a car? I thought it would be later, I don’t know if Ned is ready yet.” Ned was still cleaning, he took a break for a while to argue about the rules with them, but was back upstairs packing now.

Peter shook his head. “No, well, yes, EDITH got a car to take us at two, but this isn’t that. It’s - uh - part of my truce with the asshole. It’s fine, just let me grab it and I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He stood, and Bucky stood at the same time.

“I’ll come, to make sure it’s not trapped.” Peter shook his head.

“It’s not, EDITH triple checked the security and had it couriered from a fake address. It’s fine.” Bucky paid no attention to his words and strode towards the front hallway. Peter hurried to catch up, his shorter legs making it a nuisance.

When they reached the front door, Peter realized that at least they were the only two on their feet. He swung the door open wide and took the package from the surprised courier. Bucky slammed the door in the man’s face without further questions, and then turned to look at Peter.

“What did he send you?” Peter flinched, and hesitated, holding the package close to his body.

“It’s nothing, really, I just need a minute to-” Bucky stepped closer, nearly growling.

“Peter. I’m taking a lot on faith here, but you can’t deflect on this. If it’s something that could hurt you, I need to know.” Peter hesitated again, glancing towards the living room where the others still sat, clearly listening to the conversation. Bucky picked up on his train of thoughts, and relented. “Upstairs, now. I want to see you open it, and once I’m sure it’s safe, I’ll leave. Okay?” Peter nodded, blushing, and led the way up the stairs.

Bucky called out to the others that they’d only be a minute and followed. When they were both safely inside their room, Peter sat on the bed, holding the small box close to his chest.

“It’s not - I swear, it’s just him being a dick, but it’s not dangerous. It won’t hurt me, or anything. Just, embarrassing, and part of what I agreed to.” _Sort of, anyway. It’ll get me into his bed more quickly, which_ is _what I agreed to._ Bucky wasn’t hearing it, though, and he pulled a knife from somewhere before handing it to Peter.

Peter took the offered knife and slit the packaging, removing the tape efficiently. He carefully pulled back one flap at a time and revealed a smaller box wrapped in tissue paper. Once that was gone, Bucky leaned down to read the information on the box. As soon as he did, he straightened up like he’d been electrocuted, and took a step back.

“What? He’s - you’re - oh. He’s making you -” Bucky seemed at a loss for words, and Peter couldn’t meet his eyes when he nodded.

“Yeah. It’s part of the truce. I visit him when I got out to patrol, and nobody has to know what I traded to keep them safe.” Peter expected judgment or disgust when he finally looked at Bucky, but he wasn’t expecting anger, and definitely not the spark of heat in the man’s eyes. As soon as Peter looked at him, though, Bucky’s face closed off and Peter wondered if he mistook it for something else.

“You don’t - you shouldn’t have to _do_ anything for your safety, or the safety of your family, Peter.” Bucky’s tone was flat now, and Peter searched his face for emotion. He found none.

“I know, but that’s how it is. And it’s not that bad, really, he could have asked for worse.” Bucky frowned, and Peter winced. “It’s - not that bad. It could be worse. And I’m stronger now, so if he does anything I don’t want, I can tell him no.” Bucky was still frowning, but he nodded.

“Okay. And part of that is, what, you wearing that?” He nodded to the box still in Peter’s hands, and Peter’s whole face went bright red.

“Uh, yeah. I accidentally threw something wet at him yesterday, and he said, well, this is payback. It could be a lot worse.” Bucky nodded, wooden. Peter waited, but he didn’t leave. “So, um, yeah. I need to - so if you could-?” Bucky blinked, and realized what Peter asked all at once. He blushed as well, and backed up so quickly Peter expected there to be a Bucky-shaped cloud of dust where he’d stood.

“Yeah! Right, yeah, I’ll let you - yeah. Okay. I’ll be downstairs. Just - be careful with him. Okay?” Bucky didn’t wait for an answer before closing the door, leaving Peter by himself. Peter sighed. _I wonder how much damage control I’ll have to do later._

He held up the box and glared at it for a moment before opening it and shaking out the contents. Inside, there was a small slip of paper about the manufacturer and the causes part of the proceeds of the purchase went to, and then the purchase itself. A pair of pinkish red panties, in exactly Peter’s size. They’d looked redder on the website, but more of a sparkly pink in person. Peter held them up, and noted they were designed for someone with a penis, so they wouldn’t squish anything. At least Beck made that concession, although Peter would bet the man was more worried about Peter not being up for it than about Peter himself.

He undressed quickly, pulling off his pants and underwear before tugging the panties up his legs. The feel of the cool satin was different, and felt strange against his legs. He pulled them all the way up and twisted, trying to see how they looked from the back. He couldn’t see that well, and wasn’t sure he wanted to so he pulled on his pants instead. He headed back downstairs, the feeling of the silky underwear teasing him with every step. It was exquisite torture, and he knew he’d have trouble controlling himself until he took them off, which meant he’d spend a lot of the day thinking about Beck fucking him. Maybe with the panties on. _Shit_.

Peter rejoined the game and proceeded to lose fairly quickly, his money drying up as he overspent and made too many offers he couldn’t afford. Once he was out of money, he camped out with his remaining land and waited for someone to land on his spots, letting the time tick by.

Ned came downstairs, announcing himself ready to go at a quarter to two, and everyone decided it was a good place to break and get ready to go. Bucky volunteered to help carry Ned’s things to the car, and MJ and May went to change. Peter was left in the living room, trying to focus on anything except the whisper of the lace against his hipbones.

Bucky came back in from outside, Ned waiting with his bags for the driver to arrive, and found Peter squirming in his seat. He raised an eyebrow and Peter flushed, embarrassed the man knew why he was so distracted. He looked away, but Bucky didn’t leave him to his own devices, instead sitting on the couch right next to Peter.

“If it’s too much, you don’t have to do what he says. We can find another way out of it, to keep everyone safe without you having to - to do what he wants.” Peter shook his head, too quickly.

“No! No, it’s fine, really. Just didn’t - didn’t expect this from him so soon, you know? But it’s fine, really.” Peter wasn’t sure if he was lying or not, and from his expression, neither was Bucky.

“Okay. Well, let me know if I can help.” He stood. Peter let him but grabbed his arm before he moved away.

“Yes, actually, wait. There is something. I’m going to - go, tonight, to see him.” He tried to control his blush and failed. “But I hoped, that is, if you wouldn’t mind-” Bucky nodded.

“Covering for you? Yeah, figured I’d end up doing that, of course.” Peter shook his head.

“No, well yes, but also, I was going to say that I’m going to be pretty, uh, distracted, so I wanted to do stuff first, and patrol after. But you’d have to, I mean, if you’re still okay with backing me up on patrol, I don’t want May or anyone else knowing where I am, so you’d need to not be here. So they think we’re patrolling together.” Peter didn’t know if he made any sense, but Bucky nodded.

“Of course. I can come with you, I was planning on it anyway. I’d rather be nearby in case you need - uh - help, or anything.” He looked decidedly uncomfortable, and Peter understood why. Knowing he was having sex was one thing, hanging around the building in case Peter needed help dealing with Beck being even more of an asshole during sex was another.

“T-Thanks. I know it’s asking a lot, Bucky, and I appreciate the help. You’re a really good friend.” Peter let go of his arm, and Bucky nodded, not looking at him.

“Just doing what anyone would. I’m not - I’m not that good.” He left, and Peter sat there for a few moments before getting up to deal with the rest of the time between now and when he could take the damn panties off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously though, poor Bucky. He's got a lot of shit coming his way real soon.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning - there is one line in this that will likely make you go 'blergh'. I'm sorry. No, I promise it's not whatever you're thinking, just read. You'll know when you see it.

The process of getting in the car and getting everyone over to Ned’s was something, but Peter let everyone else figure it out. He sat in the backseat while they planned and talked, not paying much attention to the discussions around him. Bucky insisted he’d scout first, make sure there were no obvious traps, and then report back before he let Ned get out of the car. Everyone was surprised when Peter said the plan was fine, but nobody commented.

When they got to Ned’s place, Bucky did exactly what he said, making a through circle of the building and inspecting any suspicious people and objects, but eventually returning and declaring it clean and dealt with. Ned hopped out and Bucky helped him lug his things up to the front door. Before he went inside, Ned ran back down the stairs and gave Peter, MJ, and May big hugs, promising he’d be over soon to hang out and that he’d let them know if anything weird happened, in case something was up. Peter hugged him back, still a little distracted, but nobody noticed.

Once Ned was home, MJ said if they wanted to drop her off at her place, she could pack while they grabbed things from Peter and May’s apartment and pick her up on the way back. May said that plan worked for her, and so they were off to MJ’s parent’s place next. Bucky insisted on checking out her apartment just as thoroughly and MJ let him, not insisting on getting out of the cramped car while he searched. Peter watched the man walk down one side of the building and up the next, prowling, really, and had to look away before he got himself in even more trouble. Bucky’s murder strut was very deadly and somehow very appealing all at the same time.

Peter focused on his hands in his lap, trying hard not to become aroused, and when Bucky pulled open the car door he jumped.

Bucky gave Peter a measured look, then turned to MJ. “You’re good, do you have your phone?”

She rolled her eyes and held it up. “I’m generation Z, of course I have my phone.” He rolled his eyes, but moved out of the way to let her out of the car.

“Just make sure you keep it on you, and text Peter when you’re ready to go.” She saluted him and he gave her a playful one back as she walked away. “General.” She nodded and headed into the apartment.

Peter, May, and Bucky were left, and Bucky closed the car door after getting in. They started moving towards Peter and May’s apartment, and Peter felt a weird sense of dread in the pit of his stomach. He went back before, so why was he worried about seeing it now? As he ran over the thoughts in his mind, he realized it wasn’t so much him seeing the apartment he lived at with his Aunt, it was _Bucky_.

Peter thought over the past month, and realized he was a very different person than the boy who left for Europe on a school trip. He grew up a lot in such a short time, and he didn’t want Bucky reminded of the fact that Peter was technically a child in many respects. Thinking about the twin bunk beds, which seemed awesome when Ned stayed over but now made him cringe, the posters on the walls for bands he hadn’t followed for years, everything screamed ‘child that shouldn’t ever be looked at sexually’.

_And do I_ want _him looking at me sexually?_ Peter didn’t know. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go there with Bucky, someone he knew a week and already told things his closest friends and family didn’t know. If they started something, or worse, if _Peter_ tried something and Bucky rejected him, it would wreck whatever they had. Peter couldn’t risk it.

So he ignored his growing attraction to the man, and would focus on being friends instead. That way, nobody got hurt. _And,_ he reminded himself, Peter would be fucking Beck as often as the man demanded, and he’d be so sore and done with sex that the thought wouldn’t cross his mind.

He shifted in his seat, feeling the way the panties cupped and held his balls. The thoughts of sex definitely hadn’t gone away yet. There was no way to sit in the underwear without being reminded of them, which only aroused him further. Out of desperation, he imagined Happy wearing them for May and that cooled him off so completely that he could easily never get another erection as long as he lived.

Once he figured out the situation in his underwear, Peter turned back to the car window just in time to see the car pull onto their street and start inching towards their door. He took a deep breath. It didn’t matter when they got there, Bucky would see it now or later, and he tried to relax.

After getting out and thanking the driver, Peter waited with Bucky on the lower stairs as May unlocked the door. She threw it open wide and strode in, and Peter and Bucky shared a glance before following.

It was just as he remembered, but now that Peter wasn’t as shell shocked as the last time and he took in more of the little changes in the apartment. The thing he hadn’t seen, or maybe hadn’t wanted to see last time, was a new picture on the mantle. May kept Ben’s ashes along with a nice framed picture of him there, and next to the picture of Ben was a matching frame with a picture of Peter. It was a dumb picture, the one from his school yearbook, and he frowned. Surely she had a better picture of him than that?

Bucky came up beside Peter as he stared at the frame, but didn’t ask about Uncle Ben. Peter was glad since he didn’t know if he could explain it. He let Bucky nudge him away from the two pictures.

“Was there anything in particular you needed, Peter?” May’s voice came from her room, where she already had clothes thrown in every direction like a tornado passed through.

Peter shook his head. “No, what you packed was fine, I might just grab more stuff because I don’t know if there’s a washer and I don’t like to the Laundromat every four days.” She hummed at his answer, already lost in her selection process.

Peter continued down to his room, and pulled the door open wide. It was the same, but he remembered it being bigger somehow. He moved across the room to his closet, throwing it open and peering inside. All his clothes were still there, and he grabbed his suitcase, throwing it on the bed. Once he started going through his clothes, he realized he outgrew a lot of them since he last wore them.

Peter shrugged and pulled everything out of the closer, dumping it on the bed. He might as well go through and pick out everything that didn’t fit, so they could donate it. Holding up a pair of pants that looked like they might still be okay, he tugged off his jeans to double-check before tossing them on the ‘keep’ pile.

Bucky, waylaid by Aunt May and wrangled into giving his opinions on her clothing, finally made his appearance as Peter struggled out of a pair of shorts that were indecently tight and way too short. Why he pulled them up so far when it was clear they wouldn’t fit was beyond Peter, but now he just needed them off. Peter didn’t expect the door to open, and whirling around at the noise caused him to lose his balance. He landed on his ass on the floor right beside the bed just as the door pushed open fully. He could only watch in horror as Bucky slipped inside the room, still looking into the hallway, and shut the door behind him. He rested his forehead on the door frame for a moment before straightening and facing Peter. Peter, who was, of course, on the ground, in his pink lacy underwear, laid out on his ass with a pair of shorts tangled around his ankles. _Really, this image alone should be the dictionary definition for ‘Peter Parker’._

The tableau was broken when Peter scrambled up, covering himself, and Bucky quickly took the hint and turned to face the door again. Peter saw the back of his neck turn red, though, so he knew Bucky got an eyeful. The damage was done, and Peter got the shorts off and threw them onto the ‘donate’ pile before tugging on his original pants and doing them up.

“You can turn around now.” Bucky did so, still bright red, and opened his mouth. No words came out, and he tried again.

“I - shit, I’m sorry, I should have knocked. I didn’t realize, your aunt wanted my opinions on every piece of clothing she has and I don’t really understand fashion in this century already, so-” Peter stopped him with a hand.

“It’s fine, I know you didn’t mean to. And yeah, she gets like that, don’t worry about it. Just nod and agree with whatever she asks, and if you have to choose between two, pick the darker one. It’s usually a safe bet.” Bucky nodded. The flush slowly receded from his face, but he was still a little pink and couldn’t look Peter in the eye. Peter wasn’t all that interested in looking him in the eye either, so it worked out fine for both of them.

Peter sat on the bed and Bucky stayed standing, obviously still uncomfortable. Peter refused to feel as embarrassed about it as Bucky did, and determinedly went back to sorting through his clothes. “If you want to go ask May for a couple garbage bags, we can gather up all the stuff to donate and leave it outside for Big Brother Big Sister.”

Bucky gladly took the excuse to leave, and scrambled back out the door. Peter heard him calling to May about the bags. Squeezing his eyes shut, Peter gave himself two seconds before burying the memory so deeply in his brain that even he couldn’t find it.

By the time Bucky returned Peter was finished sorting through the clothes, and Bucky was back to his normal color. He handed the bags to Peter without a word, and helped him fit all the clothes to donate in. Bucky took the bags out to where May wanted them, leaving Peter by himself. He finished packing socks and underwear, and the few clothes left after his extensive culling.

He zipped the suitcase closed when Bucky came back in, and pulled it off the bed. “I’m good, if May says she is.” Bucky nodded, still looking at the ground. Peter knew what was coming.

“Peter,” Peter held up a hand.

“No, seriously, it’s fine. You don’t need to, do whatever it is you’re going to do. Or say. It’s fine, I’m fine, just don’t.” Peter tried to walk past him and Bucky stopped him with a hand to his chest. Peter let himself be halted.

“Peter. Please. Can I just-?” Peter sighed, and gestured for him to continue. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to walk in on you, and I’m sorry for acting weird. I know nothing you’re going through is your fault, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Please let me know if I can do anything to help, even if it’s keeping away from you.” Bucky’s voice halted as he got the words out, and he still couldn’t make eye contact, instead looking at where his foot steadily scuffed into the ground.

Peter put a hand on Bucky’s, still on his chest. “Bucky, it’s fine. I’m fine. It was bad timing, nothing more. If you don’t want to, uh, watch my back later,” He cringed but couldn’t find a better phrase, “then I can patrol and take care of my deal with Beck without you, I’ll be fine.” Bucky met his eyes then, his resolve strengthening as he looked at Peter.

“No, of course not. I’m your backup, and unless you tell me otherwise, I’m going to keep watching out for you.” Peter gave him a weak smile, and patted the hand on his chest awkwardly. Bucky realized he still held Peter from the door, and took his hand back quickly. “Shit, sorry.” Peter shook his head.

“It’s fine, but we should, uh, yeah - before Aunt May drags us out by our ears.” Bucky shot him an equally weak grin, and nodded, gesturing for Peter to exit first. Peter did, and dragged his bag out the door and into the hallway.

May waited by the door, her own two bags bulging, and she eyed Peter’s smaller bag steadily. “Is that really all you want?” She asked, and Peter shrugged.

“Yeah, I outgrew a bunch of stuff, so I just don’t have that many clothes right now. It’s fine, it’s not like I have to go anywhere.” She looked disappointed, but she let him out the door without further prodding.

Bucky followed the pair out, and watched the street like a hawk while May locked the door behind them. He then ushered them into the waiting car, and they left to return to MJs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just like making everyone blush. It's so cute. Poor Peter. Poor Bucky. Two morons in denial. (Our story starts in fair Verona)
> 
> Thanks as always to the awesome tfwfangirlsatk for beta-ing!


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been dealing with like, mild writer's block lately? So I've got a few chapters done after this one, but just be aware that there may be a few days in the next week or two where I'll either not post or be late posting. I know I've warned that was gonna happen since day one, but yeah, I'm also going to be traveling so just bear with me y'all.
> 
> Also: A general 'FYI' for everyone - Despite the fact that Peter is going of his own volition, the sex with Beck is still not consensual. He feels pretty conflicted about enjoying it, but because he's trading sex for safety it's still not okay.

When they arrived back at MJ’s, she was on the corner waiting for the car. As they pulled up, she looked up and nodded, shifting the bag from her back to her shoulder. When they pulled to a stop, she threw the bag in the back seat and slid in next to Peter. He smiled tightly at her, and she looked at him steadily, interpreting correctly whatever expression was on his face and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

Peter leaned into her, appreciating the warmth of her embrace. She ran a hand through his hair and he nearly purred at the contact. Peter’s eyes drifted closed, and he felt the stress drain out of him.

When Peter next opened his eyes, the car was stopped. He shifted, unsure where he was, and realized he still leaned against MJ. He straightened abruptly, and looked out the window to see they were in front of the safe house. He looked at MJ and she looked back calmly, shrugging at him.

“You looked like you needed the nap. We’ve only been back a few minutes, I asked the driver to wait a while.” Peter shook himself a little, trying to wake up fully, and MJ just looked him over. “Peter, are you okay?” He looked at her, and she shrugged again. “You seemed, I dunno, more anxious than usual when I got in the car. Did something happen?”

Peter wasn’t sure what to tell her, so he said nothing. A long moment passed, and she took his silence gracefully. Popping the door beside her, MJ hopped out and nodded to him, offering a hand to help him out.

She spoke after he had both feet on the ground again. “If you ever do need to talk about it, I’m here, you know?” He nodded, grateful for her easy acceptance of his inability to talk about it.

“Thanks MJ, I appreciate that more than you know. When I can talk about it, I’ll come to you first.” She gave him a small smile, and took his hand as they walked inside.

Once they got in the front door, May was there, ready to fuss over Peter. He dropped MJ’s hand as May looked him over, inspecting the bags under his eyes.

“I just don’t know about this Peter, I don’t know how long you can keep going. Are you sure you feel alright? It’s so not like you to fall asleep like that.” He let her look him over for a minute, but eventually batted her hands away.

“I’m fine, May, just didn’t sleep much. But I do have to patrol tonight, if nothing else it’ll tire me out so I sleep better.” A cut off choking sound came from where Bucky hovered in the doorway to the kitchen, and Peter ignored him. He let May pull him into another hug, and clutched at her just as tightly. When they broke apart, May ran a hand over his hair fondly and stepped back.

“Okay. Well, we should eat something before you go out, at least. Does anyone have any requests for dinner?” Peter smiled at her and they followed May into the kitchen, discussing the pros and cons of Indian. After ordering and getting their food, everyone dug in gratefully, conversation stopping as they enjoyed the meal.

Ordering and eating dinner passed at roughly the same rate of time as every other time Peter ate dinner, but it felt like someone compressed five years into the hour and a half time span. He shifted in his chair as they ate, uncomfortably aware of the panties still, and every time he moved, Bucky’s head snapped towards him. Peter pretended not to notice the other man’s movement, instead focusing on his food as he ate methodically. Once the excruciatingly long meal was finally done and the sun had set, Peter stood and gathered his silverware and plate before addressing the table.

“I’m going to, uh, go change, and get ready for patrol.” He turned to Bucky. “You’re still okay to come with me?” Bucky nodded, stone faced. “Cool, I’ll be down in a few minutes.” He turned on his heel and left the kitchen before anyone could comment, and hurried up the stairs to his room.

As soon as he shut the door, he nearly collapsed against it, clenching his eyes closed as he focused on breathing through his nose. The awareness and arousal that built over the course of the afternoon was worse, and he didn’t know how much longer he could go without embarrassing himself. As it was, the panties had a big spot of precome on the front from where his dick leaked steadily at the thought of Beck unwrapping him like a present.

“Fuck, come on, get it together. Don’t you dare do anything stupid now.” He let his head thunk back against the door, and then pushed himself up.

Changing into the suit quickly, he hurriedly pulled on his normal clothes over it, hating and loving the way the panties felt in the smooth silky spandex of the suit. Usually he just wore his boxers under the suit, but the silk was a completely different texture, gripping the curve of his ass and making him more aware of every movement.

As soon as he was ready, Peter threw open the door, pausing only to grab his backpack before jumping back down the stairs. Bucky stood by the front door, looking bored, and Peter skidded to a halt in front of him.

“You ready?” Bucky’s voice had an emotion Peter couldn’t name and he just nodded, hitching the backpack higher on his back.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Peter pulled the door open, and paused before leaving. He turned back, calling into the kitchen, “We’re headed out, Aunt May, don’t wait up. I’m not sure when we’ll be back.” _Or how I’ll look when I’m done._

May called back something that sounded like an affirmation, and Peter decided that was good enough. He left without another word, holding the door for Bucky who followed him out onto the steps. Once the door closed, Peter looked at Bucky, who looked right back at him.

“So.” Peter wasn’t sure what to say, and he hesitated, trying to find the words.

Bucky looked away, towards downtown where Stark Tower loomed over the smaller buildings around it. “Yeah. Let’s go - where do you need to be?” He set off without waiting for Peter, towards the alley Peter changed in the last time. Peter hurried to catch up, confused by the man’s brusque tone.

“Uh, well, the tower, but I’m not sure - wait on a second, would you?” He grabbed Bucky’s arm to halt him and Bucky stopped but shook off the touch. “Look, if you - if you don’t want to deal with - me, with this, all of it, any of it, just say so. I’m - I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Just let me know what’s up?” Bucky shook his head, but his eyes softened.

“It’s - It’s not you, or any of it, it’s just - I don’t like it that you’re doing - uh, this, against your will. It’s not right.” Peter sighed. “And I’m just, I really want to just take care of you. I’d kill that bastard right now if I knew you wouldn’t hate me for it.” Peter put a hand on Bucky’s arm, and he didn’t shake it off this time.

“Bucky, it’s not - I really appreciate you feeling like that, but it’s not like that, not entirely. I know it’s, god, it’s _really_ fucked up, but it isn’t awful. And I told you, I don’t want you killing anyone, especially not for me. Please.” Bucky nodded, not looking at him.

“Yeah, I know.” He sighed as well, and gently dislodged Peter’s hand from his arm again. “Now come on, let’s get you where you need to go.” He set off, at a more normal pace, and Peter followed.

When Bucky stopped to let Peter change into his suit, Peter hesitated. “I - I mean, I guess I don’t really need to wear the suit to see him, since I’m going there first.” He thought for a moment. “I could just give you the glasses a few blocks out and walk there, that would be easier.” Bucky shrugged, seemingly unconcerned with whatever Peter chose to do. Peter hesitated a moment longer then walked on, bypassing the change of clothes. He’d be taking them all off soon anyway, might as well save a step.

Peter led through the streets of the city, making his way to the tower by memory, and Bucky let him lead, following like a shadow.

Once they were two streets away from the tower Peter stopped, hesitating. It felt weird to take the glasses off and hand them to Bucky without the mask to pull on instead, but he did so with only the briefest of hesitations. Bucky accepted them and slid them onto his nose, staring at Peter through the readouts.

Peter leaned closer than was probably strictly necessary to talk. “EDITH, make sure Bucky gets any info he needs, and alert him if I’m in trouble. Real trouble only.” He leaned back, out of Bucky’s space. “I guess I could have said that to her before giving you the glasses, but I didn’t think of it.” He grinned sheepishly.

Bucky nodded, searching the display. “Wait - you’re - he’s at the tower?” His face twisted and Peter nearly laughed at the look of disgust and annoyance. “That’s - god, what a dick.” Peter _did_ laugh at that, giggling at Bucky as he frowned.

Once he got control of himself, Peter looked back at the tower as well, cutting a sharp silhouette in the night sky. “Yeah, he is, but he knows how to abuse the system. I could make him leave, but I actually don’t mind that he’s still staying somewhere EDITH has full access to all of the facilities for.” Bucky grinned at that information, catching Peter’s eye.

“All of them?” Peter nodded.

“Yeah. That’s actually where he - but I got control over the EDITH system back, and she likes me more anyway. So yeah, if he tries anything she’ll let him know that she’s really in charge.” Bucky tapped the glasses as Peter spoke.

“She says she does like you more, in case you were wondering. She also mentioned the asshole is waiting for you, so you should probably get a move on.” Bucky rolled his eyes, shooing Peter forward.

Peter acquiesced, setting off down the street towards the tower. He felt the measure of every step he took, both wary and excited about arriving.

Once he finally stood in front of the doors, he paused, looking inside the darkened lobby. Surely, the front doors would be locked, right? He tried one, and found it unlocked, opening easily at his touch. He pushed it open and slipped inside, letting the door shut behind him. He crossed to the elevator bank quietly, creeped out by the lack of people in the large building. It wasn’t nearly so bad in the penthouse with Beck, but the stillness was eerie.

“EDITH? Can you hear me?” His voice was little more than a whisper, it still sounded like a shout to his ears.

“Yes Peter, I can hear you. I have the elevator ready to take you upstairs.” Her voice came out of the speakers nearest him instead of the surround sound ones, and he smiled at the idea of her whispering to match his own volume level.

“Thanks. Hey, how come nobody is here? Isn’t the building going to be sold off, since it was - it was Mr. Starks?” He only stumbled a little on his mentor’s name.

“The building was supposed to be sold after his death, but there has been a protracted legal battle over the price and the rights to the tower that stopped all plans for construction or business inside. Right now, it is anticipated that there will be another six months before the case moves one way or another.” Peter nodded at that, and stepped inside the waiting elevator doors. They slid shut with a whoosh behind him, and the elevator started to move smoothly.

Once he felt the movement, a big pit opened up in Peter’s stomach. _What the hell was he doing? Voluntarily walking into the evil lair of someone who captured and tortured him? To have sex with him?_ Peter’s body was not on board with his apprehension at all, and his dick strained against the panties under his clothes and the suit, wanting friction and wanting it _right now_.

When the doors dinged open again, he was at the penthouse and he stepped out of the elevator carefully. It looked the same as it had before, and he looked around but didn’t see any sign of Beck. Before Peter could call out, a door on one of the hallways opened and Beck stepped out, casually dressed.

The man didn’t move immediately, instead giving Peter a slow up and down look that made him flush red as Beck strode towards him. “Well well, I guess you couldn’t wait that long, could you?” Peter bristled.

“It’s not my fault that you’re a dick. You said come - I-” Peter broke off, unwilling to finish the sentence. “Look. I’m here, both of us are doing what we said we would. So just stay the hell away from my family, don’t hurt anyone else, and it’ll be fine.” Beck smirked at him knowingly.

“So you’re saying you have _absolutely no interest_ in being here?” Beck stepped up to him and ran a teasing finger down Peter’s chest, stopping just above Peter’s jeans where his dick clearly had an interest in the proceedings. Peter whined a little in the back of his throat and shut his eyes.

“Just because my body is here doesn’t mean I’m excited about it. So just, get it over with.” He sounded breathless, and hated that he felt a little breathless too.

Beck smiled again, a hungry smile. “No, I don’t think I will ‘just get it over with’. I wasn’t expecting you until later, I figured you’d have more willpower so I haven’t eaten yet. You’ll have to wait, or you could eat with me.” Peter blinked.

“What? No, come on, this isn’t a date - I’m here, just fuck me and let me leave.” Beck shook his head.

“I’m not forcing you to stay. Now you can either sit while I eat, or leave and come back in an hour or two.” Peter _couldn’t_ , not in the state he was in, and Beck knew it. He sat at the table and glared at Beck, who just smiled in return.

Peter watched the man move around the kitchen, pulling out supplies for what looked like - stir fry? There were vegetables being chopped and rice being cooked, so it was a fair bet. Peter watched Beck’s hands make quick work of the ingredients, fingers moving expertly, and tried not to think of what those hands did to him. Would do.

After maybe fifteen minutes of not-as-awkward-as-it-could-have-been silence, Beck poured all the ingredients into a pan and cranked the flames, skillfully mixing and searing as he tossed them together. Once everything settled into a comforting sizzle, he opened a cabinet and pulled out two plates. Deftly he divvied up the portions and sat one plate in front of Peter, putting the other at the place setting across from him.

Peter wasn’t sure why the man decided to feed him too, but with his super-metabolism, he was nearly always hungry so he grabbed the offered fork and dug in. Beck sat after fetching himself a drink and started eating, although not with the same speed as Peter. He ate steadily, watching Peter, and Peter slowed down, chewing the bites fully before swallowing. Beck rewarded him with a smile.

Peter finished eating silently, unsure why Beck was doing everything. He couldn’t complain about the food though, it was delicious and he was annoyed at himself for thinking so.

Once Beck finished, he gathered their plates and dropped them in the sink before sitting down across from Peter again. He leveled a stare at Peter. “Alright, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Peter clenched his hands into fists and said nothing. “Well, if you’re going to be difficult, fine.” Beck pushed away from the table and stood. “Stand up and strip.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta-ed by the lovely and talented tfwfangirlsatk! Killing it, as always.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, here's the part y'all have been chomping at the bit for - here ya go!

Peter balked. “What, right now? Just strip?” He stood but left his clothes on, crossing his arms over his chest instead.

“Yes.” Beck walked forward, meaning Peter could either stay where he was and let the man into his personal space or back up. He backed up, letting Beck push him back until he hit the wall behind him. “Strip. Now. Let me see everything except my gift.” Peter gulped. “I need to make sure you didn’t, hmm, cheat and change right before you got here.” Peter flushed, knowing exactly what the panties looked like after a day of his constant arousal. Beck’s eyes hardened. “Peter. Don’t make me ask again.”

Peter didn’t. Slowly he pulled off the shirt and jeans that covered the Spider-Man suit, letting them fall to the floor. His hands weren’t shaking as he undid the suit, but they weren’t exactly steady either, and once the fastenings were finally gone, the suit pooled at his feet. He took a step to the side and kicked the suit over and out of the way.

He met Beck’s eyes, wearing nothing but the pink panties, and saw with some satisfaction that Beck wasn’t unaffected either. His eyes traveled up and down Peter’s body, taking him in hungrily, and Peter licked his suddenly dry lips.

Beck dropped to his knees in front of Peter and reached one hand out, touching the pink lace over Peter’s hipbone. Peter closed his eyes as Beck did, and he whimpered at the unexpected feeling of a tongue tracing over his other hip.

“Well, I can tell my fears were unfounded. You look like you’ve been hard since you put them on, no wonder you got here so early.” Beck’s voice sounded a little weak, and Peter opened his eyes to see the man staring up at him in wonder. “God, you’re too much sometimes, Peter.” Peter tried to be annoyed but he just felt breathless.

Beck moved slowly and his tongue dipped out, tasting the wet patch where Peter steadily leaked precome onto the silky fabric. Peter’s hips jerked and he whined low in his throat. “Fuck, come on, do something-” Beck grinned and Peter tried to reach out to fist a hand in his hair. Beck was faster and moved back, evading Peter’s grabbing hands.

“Nuh-uh, Peter, not yet.” Peter whined again, reaching out for Beck who laughed and stood, dancing away. Peter followed, glassy-eyed, and Beck moved again until they both stood beside the table they ate at. Before Peter knew what happened, Beck pushed him face down against the table, bending him over easily. Peter could have gotten out of the hold, but he just moaned, gripping the edge of the table with his hands and spreading his legs as he felt Beck’s eyes on him. “Oh, look at that. Your perfect, perky ass, all spread out. I couldn’t have asked for a nicer sight.” A sharp smack landed abruptly, dead center on Peter’s ass and he twitched forward, reminded of the last time Beck spanked him.

“Come on, come on.” Peter’s face smashed against the table and he twisted his head to the side to talk. “Don’t tease, it‘s not nice.” A hand ran over his backside, soothing the heated skin. The movement caused the panties to rub against him and he moved his legs a little further apart, cocking his hips up to present a more enticing image.

Beck’s hands reached Peter’s hips, playing with the hem and tugging slightly. He reached one hand down to cup at Peter’s balls, teasing more, and then pulled with his other, tugging so they slid off Peter’s hip. Peter made a noise of complaint, half moan.

“No, wait - wanna - can you-” He shifted, blushing, and turned so he couldn’t see Beck behind him, talking into the wood of the table. “Could - could you fuck me with them on? Just, like, push them aside, or whatever?” His neck was red, he felt it, and Beck knew why, but the hands on him gripped tighter as Beck understood his words. The man’s moan was rewardingly uncomposed, and he leaned forward to bite savagely, grinding against him.

“Yeah, yeah I can do that. Fuck, give me a sec - gotta grab lube.” The weight on his back vanished and Peter wriggled, shifting himself so his legs didn’t press against the table and he had more leverage to thrust back. Beck was gone for maybe seven seconds before Peter heard movement and hands were once again sliding over his back.

Beck leaned forward, putting his mouth next to Peter’s ear. “God, seeing you all laid out on the table, waiting for me to fuck you, you have no idea how pretty you are, Peter.” He grabbed Peter’s ass with both hands, squeezing roughly before letting him go again. Peter heard the quiet snick of the lube and breathed in deep, willing himself to relax.

The first touch of slick fingers to his skin surprised him and he jumped. After a moment Peter relaxed again, and the fingers continued probing, pushing aside the fabric until they rubbed over Peter’s hole. He pushed back, trying to get more friction, and Beck smoothly hooked a thumb into the panties and moved them aside, so he could more easily finger Peter. He pushed two fingers in, not giving Peter any warning and Peter jerked forward. His grip on the sides of the table was so tight he heard the wood creaking, and he couldn’t care enough to release his hands.

Beck made quick work of fingering him open, and Peter was breathless and pleading almost immediately. When Beck decided he was ready, he stepped back and slicked himself up, one hand resting on Peter’s back to ground him. Peter didn’t even remember him taking off his own clothes, but he was glad there wasn’t another barrier in the way.

“You want it?” Beck’s teasing question had Peter growling. “No, Peter, your words. Tell me how much you want it.”

“Fuck me right now, you asshole, or I swear I will kill you.” Beck didn’t hesitate. Hooking a thumb in the panties again so they weren’t in the way, he took Peter’s hips in both hands and sunk into him to the hilt in one swift movement. Beck’s hands were like a vice on Peter’s hips, and Peter felt the table crack and warp under his own fingertips.

Beck set a brutal pace and Peter used his leverage to meet every thrust, slamming his hips back against Beck’s. Both of them moaned as Beck ground against Peter before withdrawing, the friction making both of them a little delirious.

It wasn’t long before Peter felt himself getting close, and he raised his head, intending to warn Beck, but a sharp, unexpected slap to his ass made him cry out instead, and he was gone. Vaguely in the back of his head, he realized Beck came at the same time and fucked him through it, but his higher brain functions were offline for a few minutes while he rebooted.

Beck pulled out and Peter moaned softly, both at the overstimulation and the lacking feeling. He didn’t make any move to get off the table, content to lie there for long moments. Beck wandered away and when Peter sensed him return he didn’t move, only grunting softly in protest when the panties were worked down his legs and pulled off. Beck threw them onto the table bu his side and Peter felt something wet touch him.

When he looked back, Beck held a washcloth and wiped Peter’s skin gently, cleaning the lube and come off. He didn’t meet Peter’s eyes as he worked, just cleaned Peter up before moving to put the washcloth down wherever he got it from.

Peter finally had the mental capacity to move, and he did so, levering himself off the table and slowing coming to a standing position. He was sore and still felt a little sticky, although not for lack of a bad cleanup job. He picked up the panties, still on the table where Beck threw them. They were ruined. The silk was stained in the front with his come, and in the back with lube and Beck’s come. The material would never get fully clean, and they’d likely need to be thrown away.

Peter’s gripped them tighter, unsure why. Beck came back into the room and smirked, seeing Peter holding them.

“You didn’t bring another change of underwear, did you?” Peter, whose brain wasn’t even close to fully online, shook his head numbly, not understanding. Beck’s smirk grew wider. “Well, then you’re either wearing those back out, or going without.” Peter looked up at that, making eye contact with the man.

“I hate you.” Beck didn’t stop grinning. “You knew I’d forget, you _expected me to_ , didn’t you?” Beck shrugged at him, and Peter rolled his eyes. “You’re such a dick.”

Beck pointed at him, accusatory. “And you’re a slut for my dick, so be careful who you insult.”

Peter huffed. “Did you - did you plan all of that?”

“No, as a matter of fact, I didn’t.” Peter didn’t believe him. “I wasn’t expecting you until after your patrol.” Peter would have argued the point further, but remembered something.

“You always have lube on you, but you didn’t this time. Is that why? You weren’t expecting me?” Beck didn’t answer, and Peter’s eyes narrowed. “Do you really keep lube on you every single time you expect to fuck me?”

Beck rolled his eyes, throwing up his hands. “Can you blame me? It’s worked every time.” Peter straightened, his body tense with barely restrained fury.

“Worked? You asshole, it’s not like I _ever_ had a choice. You manipulated me from day one, with those holograms and the fake being nice, and then even when I was a fucking _prisoner_ you lied to me all the damn time. I should stop listening to anything you have to say, ever. Period.”

Peter threw the panties at Beck, who caught them but didn’t respond otherwise, and strode over to where his suit lay in a heap on the floor. He pulled it on roughly, slipping it over his naked legs before gathering his clothes and stuffing them into his backpack. “Well, fuck you. If you want your truce, you have it, you call and I come running. But I’m not doing this anymore, I can’t deal with you, and your mind games, and telling me to come here, and saying I have to beg you to fuck me? Fuck you. I’m leaving. Let me know when to be here, next time, and I’ll be here, a nice hole for you to fuck, but I’m not engaging with this, any of it, anymore. I’m done.” He pointed at Beck, at the room, and gestured with his hands to everything in between. Beck was stunned, frozen in place, and he didn’t try to stop Peter as he stalked towards the elevators.

Peter didn’t have to hit the button, the doors opened when he got close. He stepped inside and turned, catching one more glimpse of the man before the doors closed and he was moving.

As soon as he was out of sight, Peter slumped against the wall of the elevator. His heart beat too fast and his breathing was irregular, and he couldn’t shake the feeling something monumental happened. He was so in his own head that it took EDITH more than one try to reach him.

“-eter? Peter, can you hear me?” He looked towards the ceiling, where her voice came from. He nodded.

“Yeah, EDITH, I’m here. Sorry, I got a little distracted.”

Her reply was a long time coming, and Peter actually started to worry before hearing the speakers crackle again.

“Peter, I was trying to tell you - I - I may have made a mistake.” He straightened, all fatigue from the sex and the fight draining out of him, replaced with adrenaline. Her voice was very small, and he’d not heard that much emotion from her before.

“EDITH, what do you mean? What happened? Whatever it is, it’s fine, I can - I can fix it.” He tried to keep his voice steady, and wished (not for the first time) that she had a physical form, so he could put a hand on her shoulder to comfort. She didn’t answer right away. “EDITH, please tell me what happened.”

“I - your instructions, before you handed the glasses over to Mr. Barnes.” Ice ran through Peter’s veins. “You instructed me to give him any information he needed. He - asked about your status, and didn’t like the answer I gave, so I showed him the security footage.” Peter felt numb. “He took off the glasses, I can’t find him anywhere. I’m sorry Peter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to tfwfangirlsatk for beta-ing! :)


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave y'all on such a cliffhanger and wait to post until now - it was by accident! My life is just kinda crazy rn, but hopefully I'll get my things together and post regularly throughout the next week. If not, I promise I'll at least set up a few oneshots I finished, so there's some content.

Bucky Barnes woke up beside a dumpster. As an occurrence, it wasn’t his first pick of places to wake up, but he’d woken up far worse places in the past. Before he opened his eyes the smell let him know he was in Chinatown, New York City. _Haven’t left the city yet, that’s good._

As he opened his eyes, the bright morning sunlight made him squeak and screw them tightly shut again, raising his arms over his face to protect himself. While he sat there, mounting the courage to open his eyes again, the events of the previous night came back to him. First, the image of Peter’s ass in those fucking pink panties, laid out over a table with Beck pounding into him. Then, running. Then, finding some no name bar and drinking half the bottom shelf. He thinks he got a blow job in an alley too, although that’s a lot fuzzier, it must have been during the ten minutes or so after he emptied a bottle of tequila.

While Bucky’s version of the Serum wasn’t as intense as Steve’s, it meant he _could_ get drunk for short periods of time, given enough alcohol and self-hatred. And after the way his body responded to Peter, he had enough self-hatred for the rest of his life.

Bucky groaned and dropped the hands from his eyes, knowing it was better just to get it over with than do it slowly. The light blinded him and he hissed, but eventually his eyes adjusted.

When he finally looked around, he noticed the wall he leaned against was a dumpster, and one of the signs opposite him was in Mandarin or Korean, so his guess was probably right on. Chinatown, NYC, still way too close to Peter fucking Parker. Just the thought of the boy had him feeling sicker than a minute ago, that poor kid who was still a _child_ and who Bucky wanted to- to-

Bucky groaned again and pushed himself to his feet, staggering for a few steps before finding his balance. He had a lot of trouble getting and staying drunk, but his body did hungover all too well. He got the same symptoms as anyone else - severely dehydrated with low blood sugar, and would feel it until he ate and drank something.

He patted his pockets until he found a wallet, not his, with sixty dollars in cash inside. He pocketed the cash and stuck the wallet in the first mailbox he walked past. As soon as he saw a corner store he shouldered his way in, grabbing two big bottles of red Gatorade and slamming them on the counter. He grunted at the small older Chinese lady and she muttered in Mandarin about dumbass Americans. Bucky didn’t correct her, even though he could have, since her assessment was spot on.

He thrust bills at her until she stopped grumbling and took his Gatorade, gulping one down immediately and shoving the other in his pocket.

Once he was back outside and feeling somewhat human, he took a more functional look at his surroundings. He surveilled for overt and implicit threats against his person and found nothing, but most of that was subconscious. He hadn’t taken in street names or anything like that, and when he finally recognized where he was, he winced. He was half a block away from the edge of Chinatown, on the side nearest the Parker safe house.

His heart clenched at the thought of leaving Peter by himself _\- not all by himself, you saw_ that _much -_ and without someone watching his back on his way home. The kid did it by himself long before Bucky ever came on the scene, and he could handle his own in a fight, but Bucky said he’d be there and he wasn’t. He had the forethought to put the glasses somewhere Peter could see easily from the door when he left, but kept to the shadows and away from security cameras after he left, not wanting to be followed.

That was part of why Bucky loved Chinatown, it was relatively camera-free compared to the rest of the city. Most of the little mom and pop shops had those older models that were so grainy that you were lucky to get a good height estimate, let alone face recognition from the footage. So it let him move in relative isolation, although there was a chance Stark upgraded everyone in the city to a Stark brand camera system just to make sure he had the most access. Bucky wouldn’t have put it past him.

Before he left the street he was on, he paused under an overhang, thinking. He wanted to be sure of his next moves. Peter was - Peter was a good kid, and if Bucky didn’t have to hurt him, he didn’t want to. God, the kid deserved better than all of this shit and here was Bucky, fucking up his life even further.

“Shit.” He pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose. The kid deserved the chance to make the choice, not have it made for him. Bucky sighed, and started trudging back to the house. If Peter wanted him gone, he’d go.

It took Bucky nearly an hour to make the trek back to the safe house, and he debated the choice with every step. He also let himself get caught in no less than three security cameras, so if Peter had EDITH looking out for him, she’d know he was on his way. He wasn’t stopped though, and he made it back without incident. Bucky waited for a whole five minutes before he worked up the courage to knock, waiting on the steps and still considering bolting when the door opened.

Peter stood there, eyes red rimmed and looking wary. Bucky flinched at the sight of the boy.

“I - I’m sorry. I fucked up.” Bucky’s voice was rough, and he wasn’t sure what he was doing. Peter, though, heard something that made his face soften a little, and he stepped back to let Bucky step inside. Bucky did so, not willing to pass up a second (fifth, seventh, who knows at this point) chance pass him by. May and MJ were nowhere to be seen, and Bucky got the feeling that was for the best. “Can - Can we talk? About - everything?” Peter nodded, shutting the door behind him.

“Yeah. Upstairs?” Bucky let him lead, walking up the stairs and into their shared bedroom. Had it really been less than forty eight hours since Peter told him everything? Bucky shook his head, taking a seat in one of the high backed chairs, not wanting to look at the bed. Peter sat opposite him, waiting.

“So - EDITH told you what - what I saw, right?” Peter nodded stiffly. “Yeah, I - I didn’t - I wasn’t expecting - it shocked me. And I’m not good with - surprises, with anything like that. So I took off.” Peter nodded again, not giving an inch. Bucky plowed forward. “And well, I - it wasn’t something I expected her to show me, and I know you said - and look, I couldn’t face you, knowing you - that I saw - it hurt me to see. I don’t like seeing you hurt, and I didn’t want to be the one doing it, even by accident. So I took off, like a coward.” He finished his little speech, unsure if he made any sense at all, and looked up from his hands to scrutinize Peter for his reaction.

Peter waited a long moment before responding. “How much?”

Bucky frowned. “How much what?”

“How much did you see?”

Bucky winced. “Uh, not much. Probably only a few seconds, of, uh - yeah. You two.” Peter nodded.

“So you didn’t watch through to the end?” Bucky blinked, startled.

“What? No! Of course not, I wouldn’t invade your privacy like that, I feel like hell for seeing as much as I did.” _And for wanting to be him as much as I did._

Peter looked at him carefully, inspecting Bucky’s expression. Bucky tried to make himself as open as possible, and show Peter he hadn’t meant to hurt him.

Peter reached up and pulled the glasses off his face. He offered them to Bucky wordlessly, and Bucky hesitated before accepting them. He turned them over in his hands, not putting them on.

Peter watched him fiddle for a minute before speaking again. “Bucky. Put them on. You should see the whole thing.” Bucky’s eyes shot up to him, but Peter didn’t crack a smile or say he was joking, if anything he looked petrified.

“What?”

Peter nodded at him. “If you only saw a little, you didn’t get the full picture. EDITH can show you the whole thing, watch it and then we can talk.” He stood, and left the room. Bucky heard his quiet footfalls on the stairs and turned the glasses over in his hands once more. He took one deep breath and then another before finally sliding them onto his face, blinking at the readout.

“Uh, EDITH?” Bucky’s voice felt tight, and he cleared his throat. “Can you show me, uh, what Peter wants me to watch?” The display blinked on, and without EDITH saying anything she rolled the security footage.

There were no grainy, blurry images from any of the security cameras in Stark Tower, all of the footage was in highly detailed HD imagery, much to Bucky’s disappointment. There was also full audio, and Bucky wasn’t sure if that was better or worse. It started with Beck’s curt command for Peter to strip, and Bucky watched with fascinated horror as Peter bickered with the man before eventually doing so, revealing acres of pale, flawless skin broken up only by the pink ribbon of the panties.

Bucky hated himself, he really did, and pressed a hand against the front of his jeans, willing away the arousal threatening to become a problem. He watched Beck push Peter down against the table, holding him there, saw the smack the man delivered to Peter’s ass. Heard (with all too much clarity) Peter ask to keep the panties on while they fucked. Bucky bit back a moan at that, sticking two fingers in his mouth and biting down _hard_ to keep from making a sound.

He watched Beck prep Peter and then draw out the pleading request, teasing the boy into begging for it before finally giving it to him. As he watched the rough sex, Bucky found himself hating the man for doing it to Peter, and hating himself for his jealousy in equal measures. Before too much longer, both of them finished, and Bucky reached to take off the glasses.

“Not yet, Mr. Barnes, there is more.” Bucky jumped at EDITH’s voice, he forgot she was there, and he looked around guiltily, trying to point the glasses away from his lap so she wouldn’t see his reaction to the proceedings. He waited, watching the men get their breath back, and watched the slowly unfolding argument, the threats Beck and Peter traded, the animosity between them. Bucky had trouble reconciling the man spitting acid at Peter with the one who only a minute before had cleaned him up so lovingly. Peter clearly felt the same, screaming back at Beck and storming out after gathering his clothes.

When the video changed to the elevator, showing Peter shaking and hyperventilating, Bucky almost went to find the boy and wrap him in a hug, but he stayed in his seat, finishing the video until the end of Peter’s elevator ride, and him finding Bucky gone. The heartbreak on his face was clear, and Bucky hated himself for doing that to Peter. Clearly, he’d seen two seconds of the encounter and made a rash decision, but he couldn’t have watched more, and he didn’t know the whole story even now.

At the black screen EDITH faded to, Bucky finally tugged off the glasses, folding them and just holding them in his lap as he thought.

After he finally got his body’s reaction under control, Bucky stood stiffly and placed the glasses on the nightstand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to tfwfangirlsatk for beta-ing like a badass! I seriously wouldn't have gotten this far without her wonderful help on my plot snags.
> 
> For everyone checking in - I'm traveling and a lot of things up in the air, so the story will be on hiatus for approximately a week. I'm gonna write a bunch while I'm gone and will have plenty of updates, so please don't worry I'm never coming back! I will likely post a couple one-shots I've done already (if I can set them up to be ready lol) so def check my page if you're jonesing lol. I <3 y'all and appreciate your patience!


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaccckkkk! Ha, I had a crazy long weekend and I got a bunch of writing done, I think I know how the whole story will end, even if it's not written totally yet. But I'll post one chapter a day once more, unless something totally crazy happens. But yes, hopefully back, with internet and a computer, so yay :)

Peter Parker could charitably have been described as an overly anxious human being _before_ he got bit by a radioactive spider, but after the powers manifested and he got another layer of danger sense on top of his overactive human one his stress reaction shot through the roof.

When Peter Parker found himself under large amounts of stress, he did one of two things. Either he released the energy physically - pacing, running, fighting crime in costume - or he melted down, usually accompanied by shaking, disorientation, and panic attacks. When he found himself in high stress situations and unable to physically exercise out the fight or flight response, he couldn’t concentrate and had heightened emotional responses. As a general rule, he tried not to end up in situations where he can’t move, but they do pop up from time to time.

This was one time he couldn’t leave and run until his head stopped screaming, but unless he found a way to excise the extra adrenaline coursing through his body, he’d end up sobbing, punching through a wall, or both. He knew he wouldn’t be much use to anyone if his anxiety got the best of him, so while he waited for Bucky to finish the video, he ran through the Captain America fitness test three times. It was actually a fairly strenuous workout designed to be done in a small space, for which Peter was grateful, but caustic irony bubbled in the back of his throat as he did it.

He waited in the kitchen, unable to be in the room with Bucky or even on the second floor. The kitchen offered the best combo of no direct line of sight to the front door while also ensuring he’d hear any movements the man made.

On his third time through the workout he heard movement and he stopped, listening intently. Bucky stood and paced for a minute or two, and then there were footfalls on the stairs. Peter listened to the man walk slowly down the stairs and pause at the bottom. Something in Peter’s chest untwisted at the realization Bucky hadn’t continued walking right out the front door, and he let out a breath he didn’t realize he held.

“Peter? Are you still here?” Bucky’s question was soft, and the sound of his voice made Peter hesitate. “If you want me to go, I can. If you want me to stay, I’ll stay though. I don’t want to push you into anything.” His footsteps shuffled in place for a bit and he sighed. Peter wanted to rush over and beg Bucky not to leave again, but he was frozen. Bucky started slowly towards the front door, and the idea that if he left, Peter could never see him again finally spurred Peter into action. He rushed through the connecting living room, stopping at the threshold.

“No, wait.” Peter’s voice was small and Bucky stopped, turning towards him. Peter saw a lot of emotions flash over his face, but no disgust immediately evident. A promising start. “If - If you wanted, I wouldn’t mind if you stayed.” Bucky smiled thinly at him and nodded, holding his hands up like he was trying not to get shot. Like he was the one in danger from Peter.

“Can I - Peter? Can I get closer, or - ?” Peter nodded, hesitating, and shuffled a little further towards the man. Bucky took a step, and then two, and then he stood less than two feet from Peter. “Okay, yeah, thanks. I didn’t want you to have to shout. And I just - I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Bucky held up a hand and made some motion Peter couldn’t interpret.

Peter blinked. “Okay?”

Bucky winced, nodding and speaking quickly to explain. “Yeah - not like - I wanted to make sure you’re not, I don’t know, sore? Or hurt? Or if you - if you need, uh, anything, can I help?” Peter frowned.

“Needed anything?”

Bucky nodded, looking down and rubbing at the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh. Like, Advil, or um. I don’t know. Other stuff? If you - if - ?” He couldn’t finish his sentence, and instead reached out one arm, hesitating above Peter’s shoulder. Peter looked at the hand, and Bucky dropped his arm back down to his side, not touching Peter. “I won’t - if you don’t want me to, touch you, I mean.” Bucky flushed, redder than Peter expected, and shuffled back a little. “I - did you want - I should go?” It came out as a question, and Peter reached out, putting a hand on Bucky’s arm right above the elbow.

“No, please. Don’t go. If you don’t want to, I mean.” Peter ducked his head, looking up at Bucky from under his lashes. “I - I’d rather you be here, you’re - you help. You’re safe. You make me feel safe, I mean.” Bucky blushed again, deeper over the blush that hadn’t faded yet. He reached up and placed his metal hand over Peter’s hand on his arm.

“I - yeah. Yeah, if you want me here, of course I’m not going anywhere.” Peter gave him a real smile at that, and it was like looking directly at the sun. They stayed there, standing and staring at each other for a long moment before Bucky drew back, hesitating again.

“I - I did really want to make sure you were okay.” Bucky couldn’t make eye contact. “Are you? He didn’t - he didn’t hurt you, did he?” Peter shook his head, blushing.

“No! No, he didn’t - I’m not hurt. It’s not like that.” They were both bright red at that point. “But thanks for asking.” Bucky nodded.

“So - why did you want me to watch? All of it?” He shuffled, and Peter dropped the hand from his arm.

Peter didn’t answer for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “I didn’t want you to - to think it was something else. I’d rather you see the whole thing from the beginning, than whatever you got when EDITH showed you the live feed.” He took a deep breath and continued. “And I figured you’d find out eventually, and if you’re - disgusted, or annoyed, or think I’m wrong for liking it, I’d rather know now than later.” His chin jutted out defensively but Bucky knew it was just a front. Peter expected Bucky to say he was a freak, and to leave.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you Peter, you’re one of the strongest people I know. You went through _so much_ and you’re still here, fighting, and that’s remarkable.” Bucky finished his impromptu speech and looked back at Peter, so small when Bucky stood next to him. Bucky wanted to wrap him up in a big cozy sweater and never let him leave again, and he tamped down the feeling. “And there’s nothing wrong with you, Peter. The way you react to things is a body chemistry thing, don’t feel bad for what your body does. I want you to only have fully consensual encounters, but it’s more of a general want than a you-specific one.” Peter nodded, still shy, and Bucky put a slightly more confident hand on Peter’s shoulder, reassuring.

“Thanks Bucky, I appreciate you saying that.” Peter didn’t seem entirely convinced, and Bucky frowned.

“It’s not me saying that, I _believe_ that. You don’t deserve less than anyone else, and nobody should do anything they don’t fully want to do.” Peter smiled sadly and nodded at Bucky.

“Yeah, thanks. And I told him I’m done with the dumb games, so it should be easier from now on. At least, for me, since I told him to stop playing with where we stand. Either I say no when I want to, or I’m just a - just someone he can use.” Bucky, having heard the argument as well, nodded.

“That sounds like - like it’ll help you, let you keep your distance more. So if you’re happy with that, I’m happy.” He looked Peter over again, and finally noticed the state Peter was in. “Uh, Peter?” Peter looked up at him questioningly. “Why - uh - why are you all sweaty?” Peter looked down at himself, and it was true. His t-shirt and gym shorts were soaked through with sweat and he shivered slightly as his body cooled off.

“I was - I wasn’t sure, well, I didn’t know how you’d feel after everything. And working out helps with the anxiety, it’s a good way to burn it out of my system.” Peter shrugged, feeling self-conscious. _I probably reek, too._

Bucky kept his eyes fixed on Peter’s face, and not on the way his wet shirt clung to his defined torso. The boy’s body teased in his peripheral vision. Peter was built like an Adonis, and Bucky knew a thing or two about super-serum.

“That makes sense, and it’s not a bad way to burn off extra energy. But if I can help with the anxiety, let me know?” Bucky hoped he would, he didn’t know how much more of Peter working out in front of him he could stand.

Peter nodded, still unsure. “Yeah, just knowing - knowing you don’t hate me helps a lot.” Bucky’s heart clenched. Peter already meant so much to him, and he didn’t want to hurt him further.

“Of course I don’t hate you, Peter.” Peter smiled and Bucky drew Peter into a hug gently, not making any movements that would startle the boy. The sweaty teen let himself be hugged, returning the gesture enthusiastically.

Once they broke apart, Peter rubbed at the back of his neck, looking around awkwardly. “So, uh, good, I guess. And you’re really okay - with - with everything?” Bucky nodded. “Okay, that’s good.” He hesitated and Bucky narrowed his eyes, waiting. “Would - and please, don’t take this the the wrong way - would you tell me why you left?” Bucky tensed, not expecting the question. Peter saw his tension and rushed to explain further. “Just because, I’m not - I’m not mad, or anything, I just - I want to be sure I’m not doing anything to make you uncomfortable? Or, if you don’t want to come with me on patrol, I would rather know than not know.” Bucky nodded.

He took his time before answering. “I - I wasn’t expecting to see it, and it startled me.” He paused, thinking his words over. Bucky didn’t want to lie to Peter, but he wasn’t about to give him the straight truth either. “I guess I reacted more strongly to seeing it because of how I was treated, and I couldn’t be there when you were done. I didn’t trust myself not to lash out, or do something I’d regret.”

Peter nodded like Bucky made perfect sense, which was good because Bucky wasn’t sure he made any sense at all. He was so focused on not blurting out ‘I saw it and got really jealous that I’m not the one that gets to bend you over a table’ that he didn’t expect the next question Peter asked.

“Oh. Did - Did you ever have to-? Not, of course - you wouldn’t have to - don’t tell me if you don’t want to!” Peter kept talking, trying to backtrack over what he’d asked so quickly Bucky was surprised he didn’t dissolve into a Peter-shaped cloud of dust.

“It’s okay, Peter, you’re allowed to ask. The answer is no, not in that respect anyway, although a lot of other things were done to me.” He grimaced. In some ways, he’d been through worse than Peter, but in others, Peter faced traumas Bucky hadn’t and lived through them with remarkable courage. “But no, nothing compares, I don’t think. If you ever need to talk, or anything, just let me know and I’ll do my best.” Peter nodded.

“T-Thanks. I appreciate that.” He didn’t meet Bucky’s eyes, and Bucky’s heart clenched.

After a minute of standing there without talking, Bucky finally broke the silence once more. “Where are MJ and May? I assume you didn’t tell them everything about what happened last night?” Peter jumped a little, guiltily, and nodded.

“No, I - they asked, and I said something came up, I didn’t really tell them anything. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to come back at all, so when EDITH let me know you were on your way, I asked them to go to the store, since we needed more food and I wanted to talk with you alone.” Bucky took in the information, mulling it over.

“So they don’t know I’m here?”

Peter shook his head. “No, I - uh - wanted to make sure you weren’t going to say anything, or leave again, or something. I dunno, just, yeah. But you - you did want to stay, yeah? So it’s fine if they know. We can tell them you got called away by Fury or something.” He finished talking in a rush, words spilling out of him like he couldn’t hold back.

Bucky looked Peter up and down, and nodded at him. “Yeah, I’m fine with that. But you should tell them, eventually, about what happened to you. Everything.” Peter was shaking his head before Bucky finished speaking. 

“No - I - well, yes, I want to tell them, but I can’t. Not right now. I just need to, I just need more time. To figure it out. And to deal - with everything. I just can’t, right now.” He turned pleading eyes on Bucky. “Please don’t tell them.”

Bucky held up his hands, calming. “Woah, woah. I’m not telling them anything. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t do that. But I think you should think about it. Just saying, they might be able to help more than you think.”

Peter nodded, and sniffled a little. “Yeah, I’ll think about it. Just not now.” He let Bucky lead him into the living room and drape a blanket over his still-sweaty and shivering form before they sat on the couch.

Peter nestled into Bucky’s side, wrapped up in the blanket, and Bucky hesitated before putting his hand on Peter’s head, stroking through his hair slowly. Peter’s eyes fluttered, and he nuzzled his face into Bucky’s chest.

Bucky reached for the remote and flipped on some cooking channel, he didn’t pay that much attention to it, focusing more on Peter and the discussion they had.

When May and MJ got back a while later, they were happy to see Bucky, and he gave them an abbreviated story about getting called away by Fury. As he talked, Peter slept against him and his hand never stopped stroking across Peter’s hair. MJ and May both got a little soft smile when they looked at the boys, but Bucky knew they were thinking something far different than reality. While he might already love Peter (and the rest of the little family they cobbled together) something fierce, he knew it could never be what the girls saw when they looked at them. Bucky was too broken and Peter too good to deserve someone like him. He entertained the thought for a moment though, and drifted off thinking about kissing Peter goodnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Peter, poor Bucky lol. They're ao awkward with each other.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay content!

The next few days passed without much change. Peter patrolled and Bucky backed him up, they didn’t run into anyone too big or mean and got away from most of the escapades with only minor scrapes and bruises. Peter told himself he wasn’t looking forward to the next time Beck demanded his presence, and it was mostly true. He spent his days watching TV, playing video games, and building Lego's with Ned when he came over. Nights he fought crime, and afterwords curled into Bucky’s side as they slept.

Peter knew it was too good to be true, however, and at the end of the week, when he received an incoming message alert from EDITH, he already knew who the message was from.

“Peter, I have a new message for you from the asshole.” Peter spoke the man’s name with more confidence now, but still got a thrill out of the AI referring to Beck as an asshole. “He requests your presence at the tower tonight.” Peter nodded, the message wasn’t unexpected and he’d enjoyed the brief reprieve since the last time he saw Beck.

“Tell him I’ll be there. Did he give a time?” EDITH was silent for a long moment, probably asking Beck.

“He says ten PM.” Peter hummed and nodded, already planning out his patrol to put him near the tower by ten.

“Let him know I’ll be there, thanks.” He stood from his seat on the couch where he watched a movie he didn’t remember the title of, and shuffled into the kitchen where Bucky sat, reading the newspaper. Peter teased the man when he first saw him doing it, but Bucky defended the habit, saying he liked to sit and read as slow as he wanted, since he’d not gotten a lot of opportunities to do so. Peter still heckled him, calling him grandpa, but it was all lighthearted and Bucky didn’t mind the ribbing.

“Hey, Bucky, I’ve got an invite to a certain tower for after my patrol tonight.” Bucky, who glanced up when Peter entered, tensed at the news.

“Yeah, okay. He say what he wanted?” Bucky folded the paper and took his legs off the chair he’d propped them up on.

Peter shot him a teasing grin. “I’m pretty sure I know what he wants, and it’s not my ability to find the correct jigsaw puzzle piece every time.” Secretly, Peter was glad Bucky worried, but he didn’t want to cause more of Bucky’s frown lines. Knowing the man wanted Peter to be okay made Peter more at ease joking about it.

Bucky frowned at him again. “I’m serious Peter, if he’s pissed at you, I need to know. You told him to fuck off last time you were there, and guys like him don’t take that lightly.” Peter shrugged, frowning.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’m strong and can handle myself, and you’ll still be around, right?” He glanced at Bucky, who hurried to nod that yes, he’d be there. “So I’ll have you there in case I need help, but I think I can handle it.” Bucky didn’t look happy.

“But what if he tries to hologram you again? Or something like that?” Peter frowned, and thought about it for a moment.

“I mean, EDITH wouldn’t let him do that, he’s got the tech but she runs the building. But if you wanted to be sure, you could, I dunno, stay close by? Or watch or something, to make sure I don’t get whammied again.” He flushed bright red but finished his thought.

Bucky was also rather pink, but he shook his head. “I - I couldn’t, not if you weren’t - I wouldn’t want to invade your privacy.” His ears were even red now. “I can have EDITH, she’ll just give me updates, make sure I know you’re not being - overly harmed. I trust her.” Peter sighed, but nodded.

“Sure.” Peter wasn’t sure why the man respecting Peter’s privacy felt so like rejection, but it did. “Be ready to go by eight? I want to make sure we get in a good patrol before I’ve got to be there.” Bucky nodded, and Peter walked away.

At eight, after sitting down for dinner with May and MJ, Peter and Bucky got ready to go out for patrol. After patrolling together for the last few days, they pretty much had it down to a science. Bucky waited while Peter changed in an alley a few blocks away from the house, and then carried the backpack while Peter swung. Peter engaged would-be bad guys, and Bucky provided assistance if necessary, mostly watching Peter’s back and covering him in case more trouble showed up. Bucky rarely if ever got involved with Peter’s fights, preferring to stay in the shadows.

That night, they stopped two muggings, Peter took four pictures with people who asked, and helped at one bad car accident. Peter didn’t like accidents, he much preferred punching someone to dealing with the gore and violence of a wreck. With his strength, however, he freed trapped drivers and passengers much faster than EMTs, so he lent a hand when he needed to.

The car crash was the last thing they dealt with, and at quarter to ten Peter finally left the scene, tired but happy he could help. Two of the people he pulled out of cars were on their way to the hospital, and the EMTs assured him they would be fine.

When he finally reached the shadows around the tower, Peter hesitated before going inside. After a few moments, Bucky materialized out of the shadows beside him and Peter fought the reflex to jump. His spider-sense had long since recognized Bucky as a friend, not a foe, so the man could come and go without setting off his danger sense. It didn’t stop him from jumping every time the man pulled one of his appearing or disappearing acts.

“You alright?” Bucky’s voice was low, a quiet murmur, and Peter nodded, leaning into the man. One arm came up and wrapped around his shoulders, and Peter turned his head into Bucky’s chest.

“Yeah, fine, I’ll be fine.” Bucky nodded, and squeezed him before letting go. Peter stepped back. “You’ve got the glasses?” Bucky nodded. “Okay. EDITH will let you know if anything happens, but I’ll be fine.” Peter shrugged, and turned back towards the doors. “I’ll see you when I’m done?” He didn’t have to turn to know Bucky still frowned at his back.

“Yes. I’ll be here, just have EDITH let me know when you’re ready to go.” With that, Peter pushed open the doors to the nearly abandoned tower and made his way inside.

The tower never failed to creep him out when he was there alone, at least on the lower floors at night. In the daytime there was the odd construction surveyor and other official looking people, but at night the place was really deserted. Peter shivered a little in the overly air conditioned air, looking around the lobby as he walked towards the elevator banks.

“EDITH? You here?” His voice was too loud in the silence.

“Yes Peter, I am here. Are you alright?” Her voice was warm, and helped to dispel the hairs standing up on the back of his neck. It wasn’t his spider-sense that had him feeling unsettled, just regular old human senses.

“Yeah, I’m good EDITH, thank you. Is the asshole ready?” She paused momentarily.

“He is, and he is waiting for you in the penthouse. Shall I tell him you’ve arrived?” Peter nodded. “I will let him know. He says to make your way up.” Peter arrived at the elevators and the doors opened without him hitting the button. He stepped in and started moving.

“Thanks, EDITH. Just make sure Bucky has all the info he needs, yeah? I don’t - I don’t want him getting freaked out like last time, but I feel safer with him nearby.”

“Of course Peter. I will also ask before showing him any footage, if it becomes necessary.” Peter grinned, shooting a glance at the camera he knew watched him from the corner of the elevator.

“Awesome, EDITH, I didn’t think of that but that’s perfect. You’re the best!” He finished speaking as the elevator came to a halt, and quickly schooled his face before the doors opened. When they did, he carefully stepped out into the room, looking around.

It looked the same as ever, high ceilings and open airy design. Beck stood waiting for him by the kitchen island, hands stiff at his sides.

Peter stepped towards him, inclining his head as he did. “Asshole.” Beck’s hands clenched into fists and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out before opening them again to look at Peter.

“Mr. Parker. I see you look well.” Peter blinked, and then nodded slowly.

“Yes, I am. Where do you want me?” Beck shrugged, nodding towards the bedroom. Peter made towards the door, but Beck stopped him with a touch to his shoulder. Despite everything, the smallest touch still made Peter’s insides twist all funny in the best and worst of ways, and he shivered a little. “What?”

Beck looked him over, taking in the suit with a critical eye. “No suit. I don’t want it in my bedroom.” Peter balked at first, but he thought it over and shrugged again. He’d be naked again soon enough, it didn’t matter that much if it was here or there.

He undid the hidden fastenings in the suit and slowly peeled it off, not teasing but working methodically to get it off in the least amount of work. Once he finished, he stood in his boxers in front of Beck and the man waited while Peter folded the suit carefully, placing it on a nearby chair. Peter, despite his determinedly chilly attitude, was a little relieved to see the man wasn’t entirely unaffected by his impromptu strip tease. He cast a lingering glance at the erection tenting the man’s pants.

Peter stepped closer to Beck, one hand reaching down to cup him through his jeans. “Is this for me?” Beck drew back, and Peter dropped his hands, confused.

Beck didn’t explain, and instead pointed at the door to the bedroom. “In.” Peter went, confident in his own abilities to get himself out of any trouble Beck might have planned, and Bucky’s ability to get him out of trouble if Peter couldn’t.

The bedroom looked much the same as it ever did, except for a couple additions to the bed. There was a set of cuffs attached to the headboard, and Peter hesitated when he saw them. He swung around and saw Beck standing there, looking unimpressed.

“Really? You think I want to be tied up?” Peter couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice, and Beck scowled at him. Peter took an involuntary step back at the man’s glower, and Beck rolled his eyes.

“No, I don’t.” It was Peter’s turn to frown.

“Then why - ? What do you want?” Beck fished in his pocket and drew something out before tossing it to Peter. Peter caught it easily, and looked down at the object in his hand. He held a small key. “Wh-What is this for?”

Beck walked over to the bed and sat, grimacing. “As you so helpfully pointed out the last time you were here, there is a power imbalance between us. I thought this could - even the odds, so to speak.” Peter looked at the key in his hand and then back to Beck, sitting on the bed, not reaching for the cuffs yet.

“You want me to chain you up? But how - no, I told you last time, I’m not doing your stupid mind games. I’m not tying you up and riding you just so you can trick me into thinking I’m in control.” Beck rolled his eyes, huffing.

“It’s not a trick, and that’s not what I’m saying. Just, I’m trying to show that you’re not the only one here with things to lose.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Look, this is following your rules. I told you when I wanted you here, and I’m telling you what I want. You can tie me up and leave me here for two hours and then go home, but it’s up to you.” Peter hesitated, looking at the small key in his hands again.

“How do I know this isn’t a trap?”

Beck barked out a surprised laugh. “Yes, you got me.” His voice was dry. “I’ve found the ultimate secret plan - I trick you into tying me up, and then somehow capture you again.” Peter fought a grin but was only partly successful.

Beck leaned back against the bed, and Peter shuffled a little closer, still holding the key. “Say I do this, what’s to stop me tying you up and going and getting SHIELD and bringing them back here to arrest you?” Beck shrugged.

“Nothing but your own sense of fairness. It would be pretty underhanded to take my offer and turn around and stab me in the back with it, although I can’t say I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” Beck still seemed utterly relaxed, and that made Peter angry.

Beck knew him, knew Peter wouldn’t be able to lock him up and call the calvary because it would feel too much like cheating. The man felt perfectly safe because he knew Peter needed to catch him fair and square, and he was right.

Peter growled and practically ran the rest of the distance to the bed, catching Beck’s arm and slamming it into one of the cuffs before he even realized. Before Beck could react, Peter had the other arm and was locking the second cuff tightly around it. Beck tugged on them and they held tight, giving him a foot or so of movement on each wrist without tugging his arms in awkward directions. They were more humane than the restraints that Beck used on Peter himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh is anyone else excited to see what happens?


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm so late posting this lol, I'm a mess! Enjoy!

Peter was playing into what Beck wanted, but he was too pissed off to care.

“You know what? Fine, let’s do this the way you want.” He tugged hard on the chains and felt them hold. If they were on Peter, he could break out, but a normal human couldn’t. Beck was really stuck there, at least until he activated whatever backup plan he had if Peter decided to leave him there.

Beck grinned, looking up from where Peter knelt over him. “How’s it feel, Peter? You’re the one in control now, got me at your mercy? What are you going to do to me?” Peter growled, seeing red, and he ducked his head to lick and suck a line of red marks behind Beck’s ear. He noted with some relief that the man’s cocky tone slipped away at that, replaced with a series of moans.

Peter drew back, panting a little. Beck’s eyes were wide and he looked at Peter roughly. Peter leaned back in and their lips met, more a fight than a kiss - both men struggled for the upper hand. But Peter had the advantage, and he wasn’t above using it. His hands snaked out, drawing up and down Beck’s torso, and he smirked at the rattling of the chains when Beck tried to do the same but couldn’t.

“How’s it feel now, huh?” He felt a little smug when the other man growled, straining out for Peter. Peter leaned back, just out of reach. Beck’s hips thrust up and he grimaced at the lack of anything to thrust against.

The sight of the man like that gave Peter an idea, and he grinned wickedly. Beck caught the look in his eyes and shook his head.

“Whatever you’re planning, no. Not happening in a million years.” Peter just grinned wider, looking Beck up and down.

“I don’t think that’s entirely your call, do you?” Beck grimaced at him. “Strung up like this, the least you can do is be grateful for anything I give you.” Peter trailed one finger down the man’s chest. “And I’m thinking you’ve got a lot to make up for.” Beck’s eyes widened as he took in Peter’s expression.

“Hey wait, what do you think you’re-” Peter wrapped nimble fingers around the hem of Beck’s shirt and tugged, freeing it from his jeans and pushing it up his chest. He couldn’t get the shirt all the way off, but that was fine - the tangle of shirt and arms above Beck’s head served to frustrate the man further.

Peter was in a forgiving mood so he pushed the shirt enough to free Beck’s head, letting the man watch the proceedings. Not that it would be so bad if Beck couldn’t see - that idea had promises for later, if Peter had time.

Beck huffed and Peter ducked his head, licking one long stripe along his stomach and ending with a swirl around one nipple. Beck’s breathing hitched and Peter took note, drawing different reactions from the man. A lick on one nipple was a hitch in his breathing, fingers trailed along his side made breath quicken like he wanted to laugh, and when Peter clamped his teeth on the soft skin of Beck’s hipbone, leaving mouth-shaped marks, he got a low moan for his troubles.

“Fuck, come on, stop teasing. Shit.” The swearing meant he got to the man, and Peter grinned. “Come on, kid, let’s go, you’re killing me here.” One hand shot out and wrapped around Beck’s throat smoothly, pressing just enough to let him know Peter was serious.

“Oh, believe me, if I was killing you, you’d know.” Peter had no idea where the sharp edge in his voice came from, but it impacted Beck hard, if his response was anything to go on. His eyes widened and he squeaked before biting his lip and nodding slightly. “Now, I’m going to let go of you, and keep doing whatever the hell I like. Got it?” Beck nodded again. Peter removed his hand. He watched the rise and fall of the man’s chest as he drew deep breaths into his lungs, and contemplated his next move.

Nearly being choked did nothing to stifle Beck’s arousal, and Peter glanced at the bulge in the man’s jeans. Beck’s hips made small movements, more out of instinct than any real expectation Peter would relieve him.

His eyes flicked up and met Beck’s for the briefest second. Peter pressed one hand against his own erection mindlessly, and bucked into the pressure as he remembered he wore only his underwear. _Well, at least that means less I have to take off._

Peter undid the fastenings of Beck’s jeans, and pulled them halfway down his legs, not bothering to remove them or make Beck comfortable when they tangled at his knees. Beck struggled for a moment, his legs kicking out as he tried to free himself from the pants. He couldn’t, and he finally gave up, settling back against the bed and waiting for Peter’s next move. Peter’s next move happened to be sitting up and leaning away to take in the picture made by the disheveled man.

Hair a mess, lips red and swollen from biting kisses, neck and chest covered with teeth marks, erection hard and needy pressed against his stomach, Beck looked like a mess. Peter found it incredibly hot. Knowing he’d completely unraveled Beck was a powerful feeling, and he wanted more.

He leaned over, pulling open the drawer in the side table and finding both lube and condoms there. Peter pulled them out, setting them on the bed next to him. Beck watched his movements curiously but without any real fear.

“Do you remember the first time you came to me?” Beck nodded but didn’t speak. Peter appreciated that. “I was so touch starved that I would have done anything to get your hands on me." He made a show of picking up the lube, inspecting it carefully and pretending to read the label on the back. Beck looked confused, eyes wide and face open.

Peter opened the bottle with a soft ‘snick’ and poured a little into his hand, testing the viscosity. It was smooth, likely really high quality, and it warmed in his palm. He swirled it around a little, and then used his other hand to coat three of his fingers with it.

“But you know what?” Beck shook his head. “I think you knew the whole time that it wasn’t just because it was touch. I think you knew I’d get addicted to the feeling of you, need more of you, you knew since that first handshake.” Peter reached down and tugged at Beck’s erection with his slippery fingers, just the lightest brush of friction that had the other man arching up into his touch.

Peter watched as Beck’s eyes rolled up into his head a little at the touching and as his stomach muscles rippled and flexed, straining to get Peter to give him more. Peter, hard enough to cut diamond, struggled to keep his face composed and aloof at the sight of the man wriggling beneath him. Once Beck arched up enough, Peter tugged with his other hand, pulling Beck's jeans all the way off before situating himself firmly between his legs.

Beck grasped the implications of the new position immediately, and bucked, trying to close his knees. “No, no way, that was not - you know I didn’t mean-” Peter reached for his dick again and Beck cut off, whuffling softly.

After a few seconds of languid stroking, Peter released Beck’s dick and the man whined again, pouting. Peter stifled a chuckle at the sight of the man so put out, and covered it up by using his other hand to maneuver the man’s legs so one knee was thrown over his shoulder. Peter pressed a kiss to the inside of Beck's ankle.

“Shut up.” Beck did so, and Peter rewarded him with a smile. “Good. Now, if you’re going to be a whiny brat about it, I can always leave and let you stay here for a while, to think about how much of a dick you’ve been.” Beck shook his head quickly. “I’m glad - you know I’m serious about that, and I will leave you high and dry if you whine any more.” Beck nodded again, eyes fixed on Peter’s slippery hand, hovering above his dick.

Peter leaned in, forcing Beck to focus on his eyes. “Now listen to me. I’m the one in charge, for once, and you’re going to do what I say for a change.” He waited, Beck nodded. “Perfect, we understand each other. I’m going to fuck you now, and let’s see how you like it.” Becks eyes widened but he didn’t speak, instead nodding fractionally to show he understood. Peter smiled wickedly. “And just to make sure you have the, hmm, proper motivation, I’m only going to touch your dick while I’m inside of you, and you don’t come before me, _if_ I think you deserve it at all.”

Beck’s eyes widened but he said nothing. He knew how to listen to directions. Peter smirked and trailed one slippery finger down his stomach, passing his dick without touching him. Beck moaned, frustrated, and Peter’s fingers wound around his balls before slipping towards his hole.

Peter circled for a moment before rubbing at the tight pucker, relishing the feeling of Beck’s nervous anticipation making him tense and relax in quick succession. He kept rubbing, getting Beck used to the feeling, and he slowly relaxed enough for Peter to press in a little. As he pressed, he realized just how tight Beck was and his eyes glazed over. Soon with a little luck, he’d get to be inside that hot, tight grip.

With his one hand occupied, Peter’s other hand gripped his dick loosely, pulling himself absently out of his underwear and moving steadily. Beck’s gasp brought him back to the here and now and he looked down, seeing the man’s eyes fixed on Peter’s hand around his dick.

Peter looked down at himself and chuckled, seeing what Beck saw. His dick was red and rock hard, and precome leaked steadily from the tip. Peter gathered the precome and stuck his finger in Beck’s mouth, letting him taste.

“Hmm, good? Yummy? You want me inside you?” Beck shook his head no but his eyes were glassy and he eagerly lapped at Peter’s fingers, whining again when he removed them. “Too bad I’m putting my dick in your ass, you’re great at giving head.”

Beck was relaxed enough for Peter to work one finger inside him and he did so, twisting and rubbing until he heard a broken moan that might have been Peter’s name. He crooked his finger and hit the same spot again, and Beck cried out wordlessly. “Ah, there we go.” He kept hitting the same spot, and soon added another finger, rubbing along Beck’s rim and slipping in with little to no resistance. The man took it like a champ, whining and moaning and wriggling to try to get more friction anywhere.

Peter worked his way up to three fingers, scissoring them and stretching Beck gently, almost lovingly. When he had all three fingers inside Beck and worked them apart and hit the spot inside him that made him groan every time, he decided the man was ready and pulled his fingers out. Beck groaned at the loss and tilted his hips up, trying to encourage Peter to touch him more.

Peter smirked at the image, and mentally reminded himself to ask EDITH if the video from this encounter could be saved somewhere very secure, so he could watch if he ever needed material to jerk off with. At that thought, he realized the parallels between how he was acting and the way Beck had, back when he first came to Peter. It felt like a bucket of cold water poured on his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like the writing in this chapter is weird? Like, I wrote it and edited (and fangirl, lovely as always, beta-ed) but it still feels kind of clunky? I dunno, maybe I'm crazy and it's fine. But I may go back and edit phrasing a lot, at some point.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the next chapter, bright and early because I feel bad about not posting the last one until so late yesterday!

Peter reared back, blinking as he took in the picture in front of him. Beck, tied up and needy beneath him, so much like how Peter usually did in his position. Despite his comments to the contrary, the man was hard and wanting and Peter was half-tempted to say ‘screw it’ and fuck him senseless anyway. But it was too familiar, and he couldn’t blink away the parallels between them.

Peter fell backwards, onto the bed. Beck's head shot up and he watched Peter scramble backwards and nearly fall off before he caught himself. Peter stayed off the floor, but only just barely, and he ran his hands around the rumpled covers, looking for the key Beck tossed him earlier.

“Shit, shit-” He finally laid a hand on it and righted himself abruptly, almost falling in the other direction with the force. Once he was upright and not in danger of falling off the bed, Peter crawled back towards Beck.

“What are you doing?” The man’s confusion and disappointment almost snapped Peter out of his anxious hurry to unlock the cuffs. “Come on, Peter, hey look at me!” Beck’s voice rose as he talked, and took on a sharp note as he commanded Peter to look at him. Peter did so without thinking, making eye contact with the man even as he fumbled with the first cuff, hands shaking as he put the key in the lock.

Beck looked him in the eyes, staring him down. “Peter, what’s wrong?” Peter shook his head, turning back to his job. He finished unlocking the cuff and pulled Beck’s hand free, rubbing his wrist briefly before turning on his knees to the other cuff.

Beck wasn’t having any of it, and he used his free hand to grab Peter’s wrist, stopping his movement. Peter could have kept going, but he didn’t want to hurt the man, especially when he was trying to _keep_ from hurting him.

Peter let Beck stop his wrist and stopped trying to undo the second cuff, panting. Beck held his arm, and held his gaze steadily. “Peter. Why are you so worried? What happened?” The words were cool but not unaffected - Beck was trying not to freak Peter out more.

He took a deep breath and held it for four seconds before letting it out. “I - I just, I realized I was doing what you did. To me. And - I didn’t want, I don’t like - I didn’t want to be the kind of person that did that.” He couldn’t hold Beck’s eyes, and he looked down and away, ashamed. The hand on his wrist took his chin and moved his head so he made eye contact with Beck again.

“Shit Peter, fuck. I’m sorry. You’re not - I didn’t want to hurt you, not like that. Not like this. And I’m - I’m fine, I was okay with what you were doing.” Peter huffed out a laugh, humorless, and reached up, key forgotten. He broke the remaining handcuff away from the bedframe, pulling the iron links apart with his bare hands. Beck’s arm was still in the cuff, but he was free.

Beck looked from the cuff to Peter and then back again. Peter shrugged, tossing the bits of broken chain onto the bed.

“I’ve never really used my full strength, whatever you held me down with before was strong enough to keep me down.” Beck pursed his lips, and shifted so he sat on his heels, leaning forward towards Peter.

“Peter, do you know what I was thinking, just now?” Peter shook his head, confused but also less anxious now that Beck wasn’t chained up and mewling. “I was looking at how strong you are and thinking about how much I want to ride you.” Peter blinked, confused. “You’re so strong, can I-? I know I’m not, uh, you could be on top if you wanted, but - you opened me up already and well-” He waved vaguely at his dick, still hard and insistent against his stomach.

Peter’s own erection had diminished with his panic and his attempts to free Beck from the restraints, but it quickly regained interest as he took in Beck’s naked body towering over him. Beck pushed gently at Peter’s shoulders and Peter let himself be pushed back into the bed, with Beck kneeling between his legs. Beck swung a knee over Peter’s thigh, straddling him as Peter propped himself up on his elbows to watch.

As Peter looked up at the man with amazement Beck lined himself up with Peter’s dick, sinking down without so much as a warning. All of the breath in Peter’s lungs left him in a whoosh and his body bowed, rising up to meet Beck’s where they connected. Beck groaned, loud and low, and started moving without waiting, rocking himself up with his powerful thigh muscles and slamming back down.

Peter was in heaven and also felt like crying - it was nearly too much, too tight with so much stimulation that he could hardly stand it. Beck kept moving though, and Peter’s hands came up to grip his hips with fingers like iron. Beck wasn’t paying much attention to Peter, just pistoning himself up and down and making breathy little moans as he did so. It was all Peter could do to hold on.

Beck moved faster, hands on Peter’s knees as he drove Peter further into himself and hit his prostate with pinpoint accuracy. “Oh, fuck Peter, god, you feel so good.” His words were mostly nonsense and assurances that he enjoyed what he was doing, and Peter let go and just rode the sensations for a bit. “God, can’t believe I didn’t think of doing this earlier, I should have known you’d be great at this. Fuck Peter, fuck me, fuckmefuckmefuckme-” Peter got his feet flat on the bed and rolled so Beck was under him, not slipping even an inch as they moved. Then he was fucking into Beck, legs spread below him.

Beck’s eyes closed and Peter leaned down as he moved his hips, lips closing on Beck’s pulse point and sucking a mark into the skin there. “Fuck, god, fuck you feel so good around me, I can’t - want to last, but I’m gonna - soon-” Beck nodded at Peter’s words, and snaked one hand down between their bodies, pulling at his dick while he rocked his hips in time with Peter’s.

Peter batted his hand out of the way and wrapped smaller hands around Beck’s erection, palming him roughly and moving up and down with an increasingly frantic pace. Beck _had_ to come first, Peter wanted to feel the other man around him when he came. After only a few more seconds, Beck cried out and wrapped his hands around Peter’s torso, nails biting into the skin of his back. Peter felt Beck constricting around him and was gone as well, following him over the edge.

He kept thrusting weakly until he was finally spent and pulled out, making a face at the strange feeling. Beck hadn’t used a condom and Peter’s come leaked out of him, dripping as Peter pulled away. Peter wanted to be disgusted but he was ashamed to find it really hot, and he pushed one finger against Beck’s hole, pushing the come back inside of him. Beck moaned a little and twitched, and Peter dropped his hand away from the other man’s body.

Having calmed down from his earlier almost-panic attack, Peter wanted to get out without having to deal with Beck any more than he had to. His confused mind whirled, and as he thought, his eyes locked onto the one cuff still hanging from the bedpost. _That could work._

Beck seemed completely spent, and Peter took advantage of the man’s sluggishness and confusion to take his left wrist and raise it up, snapping it easily into the cuff. Beck came to a little when the cold metal of the cuff closed around his wrist, and Peter smirked as Beck glared, pulling his arm and finding it very stuck.

“What the hell is this? Hey, you let me out! You wanted to let me go!” Peter shrugged, nervous but trying to project cool and collected.

“I did, and then I changed my mind.” Peter rolled so his feet hit the floor, and he reached up with one hand to smooth his ruffled hair. It was likely hopeless, but he wouldn’t see his aunt until the next morning. “You can stay there, the key is on the bed somewhere, so you find it, you’re free.” Beck swore a blue streak and then started digging through the bedding with one hand, his other handling limply in the restraint. Peter would have laughed had he not felt a not-insignificant amount of grief at leaving the man tied up.

_If he isn’t free in fifteen minutes, I’ll send someone to pick him up._ It was an imperfect solution, but he would rather the man not follow him, especially with Peter’s new rules about less contact. Peter needed time to free himself of the man’s influence, and if he had to be a little underhanded to do it, so be it.

He stood, wiping himself off as best he could with the edge of the sheet as Beck tore apart the bed behind him. Peter forced himself to walk out the door without looking back, even if he knew Beck wouldn’t be happy about it. Once he was out of the room and the door swung closed, Peter took a breath, and leaned against the wall, steadying himself. He picked up the suit from the ground in the hallway and slipped it on.

Before entering the elevator, Peter paused and looked towards the ceiling where he knew EDITH watched. “EDITH, can you hear me?”

After a moment her response came. “I can, Peter. Did you need something?” Peter shook his head.

“No, not right now, aside from the elevator down. But let me know if he takes more than fifteen minutes to free himself?” She opened the elevator doors and he stepped on.

Once the doors closed and the elevator started to move, she answered him. “I will alert you to his status, but I estimate it will take the asshole approximately two minutes and forty-five seconds to free himself. I recommend you are out of the immediate area by that time.” Peter agreed with both the time estimate and the suggestion he be nowhere in range, and as soon as the doors opened on the ground floor, he walked purposefully towards the big glass entrance at the front of the building. As he walked, he tugged on the mask and saw Karen’s readout flashing to life.

“Got it EDITH, thanks for the help. Is Bucky okay?” He pushed open the doors, scanning the seemingly deserted street outside. Just because nobody was there didn’t mean nobody was there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to tfwfangirlsatk for kicking my ass and staying on top of me to keep writing! 
> 
> Positive comments and kudos feed my author soul and keep me excited to write more! I'm a ho for comments ;)


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been fighting with the last chapter and it is *killing me* y'all, I know what I want to happen but it keeps not working out. I know I'm gonna get it eventually, but I just want to do it justice because everyone's been so sweet! No matter what, I think 41 is going to be the last chapter. Gulp.

After a few moments, Bucky melted out of the darkness, backpack hitched over one shoulder. He nodded at Peter and an emotion crossed his face, one Peter couldn’t name only there for a fraction of a second. His face was back to cool professionalism the next moment, but Peter knew something was up.

Peter debated waiting until they were back to ask, but he knew the thought would bother him the entire way. “Hey, Bucky, did something happen?” Bucky shot a look at him, shaking his head slightly.

“Not here.” He nodded to the tower behind them with his head, and Peter sighed. He was right but, Peter didn’t like it. He stepped up and when Bucky didn’t brush him off or move away, Peter lay a hand on his arm, squeezing for a moment before letting go.

They made quick time back to the safe house, even with Peter stopping to change into his regular clothes, and once they were back inside Peter leaned against the door. The whole night went better than he expected, but Peter was still exhausted.

Bucky didn’t pause, walking straight up the stairs into their room, and Peter gave himself a moment to breathe before following. Usually he was hungry after patrols, but this was a night calling for what was sure to be an uncomfortable talk and then hopefully sleep.

When he opened their door after knocking, Bucky was sitting ramrod straight on the bed, unlacing his boots methodically. Peter took one step into the room, followed by another. When he stood beside Bucky he stopped, looking at the man. Bucky didn’t look up, and continued taking off his boots.

“Bucky, hey.” Peter only got a grunted reply. “Hey, c’mon. What’s up? Did something happen?” Bucky finally looked up and into his eyes, and Peter couldn’t see anything in Bucky’s.

“Yeah, but s’fine. Just - EDITH said you were on the verge of a panic attack, while you were there.” Peter paused, thinking. The only time he’d been close to - oh. Right. When he realized the parallels between what he did and what Beck did.

“Oh. And what did - did she uh, show you? Or, did she tell you what-?” Peter felt incredibly awkward as he ran through the rest of the night in his mind, trying to think about what Bucky could have learned to make him act this way. Bucky was understanding before, even kind in his refusal to see Peter as dirty or having done something wrong, and Peter wasn’t sure why that would change. _Was it because Beck rode_ me _? Or because-_

Bucky’s voice interrupted Peter’s musings, stopping him from spiraling further. “She offered to show me and I just thought - if something bad happened it would take her too long to tell me, you know?” Peter gulped. Bucky’s voice still had that disquieting flat tone. “And I watched it.” He shook his head, and all of a sudden Peter saw the weight of the world on Bucky’s shoulders though the man hadn’t moved. It was eerie that he could do that, really, let go of all emotion so entirely. Peter knew it couldn’t be healthy.

“So you - you saw? But you’d seen - before, and this wasn’t that different, really. I mean, I don’t - yes, it was different, but he was being weird and said he was playing by my rules so I had to and I-” Peter’s voice started climbing as he talked, working himself into a mild panic. He paused, however, as Bucky reached out towards him, hand coming to rest on Peter’s arm. Peter looked from the hand back to Bucky’s face, and back down to his arm. “Uh, Bucky? You okay?”

Bucky shook his head slightly, the barest indication. Peter hesitated before covering Bucky’s hand with his own. “If I can do anything, let me know? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Bucky looked at the hand covering his own and seemed to be deep in thought, and finally he looked back at Peter’s face.

“Can I - can you sit with me? On the bed?” Peter nodded slowly, unsure what exactly Bucky wanted but willing to go with it. Bucky let go of him and scooted back on the bed, kicking his boots the rest of the way off and leaning against the headboard with a pillow against his back. Peter toed off his own shoes and joined Bucky, kneeling next to him and intending to sit against the headboard as well.

Bucky had other ideas, and he reached out to grab Peter, pulling him closer and swinging a hand under him to move his legs. Peter was reminded for a moment of Beck holding him down and spanking him until he sobbed, but Bucky’s hands were cool and light, not hot and rough, and he quickly arranged the pair so Peter sat in Bucky’s lap. Peter curled so Bucky’s nose was in his hair and his face rested on Bucky’s chest. He felt small, curled into the man like that, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. He felt safe.

His ass was also directly positioned over Bucky’s lap, and Peter tried not to think about that part. Bucky was an expert at reading body language across a room, let alone from the person sitting _in his lap_. Peter started counting backwards from a hundred in nines, distracting himself.

Bucky’s arms went around him, locking at Peter’s side and holding him close to the man. Peter stopped counting and looked Bucky in the face.

“Is-Is this okay?” Bucky’s voice sounded uncharacteristically hesitant, and Peter nodded, trying to convey how okay he was without seeing Bucky’s face.

“Yeah! This - This is totally fine, yeah, no worries here.” Peter thought he sounded a little too eager, but Bucky’s arms tightened for a moment in response, hugging Peter even closer to his chest.

“Good, yeah, this helps. Having you here, it’s, I know you’re safe, you know? Safe, and nobody can hurt you.” Peter nodded against Bucky’s chest. He did feel safe there, safe and loved and protected. If he could sit against Bucky’s chest forever, he would.

“Yeah, I got it. It feels safe for me too.” Peter let himself relax into the hold, and Bucky held him up, comfortable despite Peter’s weight on his thighs. “So you were going to tell me about what happened tonight?” Bucky tensed and then forced himself to relax, breath even and measured. Too even and measured. Peter thought he was likely controlling his breathing without thinking about it, but decided to let it go, since it didn’t seem to hurt him.

“Sure.” Bucky paused, and Peter waited while looked for the words. “I - tonight was a lot. Like I said, EDITH said you were on the verge of having a panic attack, so I asked her to show me, and then I could see it, I saw - I saw you, and - and him, and you were, and-” Peter let his head fall against Bucky’s chest as Bucky spoke, feeling the words rumble through his lungs.

When Bucky cut off, Peter didn’t move, just lay listening to his breath. Eventually Bucky started talking again. “I saw the two of you, and you were - you weren’t having a panic attack anymore. Or, you weren’t on the verge of one anymore.” Peter nodded, brushing Bucky’s shirt against his cheek. “And I-I was watching. I kept watching. I - and you were - I shouldn’t have, but I didn’t stop. I’m sorry.” Peter didn’t speak at first, unsure which part to address first.

After a few moments, he lifted his head an inch, not moving the rest of his body or trying to get up. He found Bucky’s eyes and met them, looking at him directly. “It’s okay. I understand, and I would never hold it against you.” Bucky searched Peter’s face for a few long moments and then he crumpled, pulling Peter back to his chest tightly and burying his face in Peter’s hair.

“Shit, Peter, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t - but I can’t - god, you should hate me, I don’t get why you don’t hate me-” Peter suspected Bucky was crying, but he wasn’t sure with the man’s face pressed against his head. He let Bucky hold him tightly, and breathed steadily against the man’s chest until he composed himself.

Once Bucky stopped mumbling under his breath, Peter reached one arm out from the small bundle Bucky gathered his limbs into and placed his hand on Bucky’s arm. Bucky froze momentarily, but then relaxed when Peter made no further moves.

“Bucky, it’s okay. I’m really not mad. You wanted to make sure I was okay, and so you kept watching. That’s fine, it’s why I wanted you there.” Bucky tensed, and shifted Peter so he was no longer on Bucky’s lap, instead leaning against the pillows to his left. “What - wait, Bucky, what is it?” Bucky stood, stepping away from Peter, and Peter scrambled up as well, following him.

Bucky whirled on him, angry, and Peter stopped short. “It wasn’t because I was concerned about you, Peter. I was concerned about you, but it wasn’t just that. I was also - I was just watching. Because I couldn’t stop.” There was more, but he choked and cut off. Peter didn’t move away, still standing directly in front of Bucky.

“You - watched me?” Bucky, tense, nodded. “Because you - just because you wanted to?” Another nod, just as small a motion. Bucky’s eyes tracked every twitch Peter made, and Peter felt the hair on his neck raise at the scrutiny. It wasn’t a bad feeling though, and he rolled Bucky’s admission around in his mouth, tasting it. 

Peter would be lying if he said he’d never thought about - well, thought about Bucky. He was drawn to the man physically from the first day, and he trusted him to watch his back like he trusted nobody else.

Bucky was still frozen, waiting for Peter to make a move. Peter took a breath, and then another, trying to steady himself. He knew if he said the wrong thing, Bucky would leave, and Peter could look for him for however long he liked, but even with EDITH he wouldn’t give himself very good odds.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! I finished chapter 41! Holy crap, it's been such a whirlwind journey, I'm so happy to have a satisfactory ending, and that I got to do this whole thing with y'all. I'll post one chapter a day until then, last chapter on thursday I believe. This is not the last chapter! There are a few more so keep reading :)

“Please don’t leave.” Peter’s voice was too loud in the quiet, but he was okay with that. He needed Bucky to know he didn’t want him gone, regardless of everything else that was or wasn’t happening between them. “I don’t want - I don’t want you to go.”

Bucky hesitated, still looking at the door and then back to Peter, and his shoulders slumped, his posture turning defeated. “Why?” Peter shrugged, and took a cautious step towards the man.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry I don’t have more of an answer for you, but I just don’t know. I’m - I feel like we’re connected, like there’s some kind of - possibility, or some potential with us, but I don’t know what it is yet.” Bucky still looked like he wanted to leave, but he didn’t move towards the door, turning instead to face Peter fully.

“I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean. You should be telling me to leave, hell, you should have me arrested, but don’t - don’t say things like that if you don’t mean them.” Peter shook his head, bolder, and put one hand on Bucky’s arm.

“I do mean it. I’m not sure what it is, but I mean it. I don’t want you gone, if you left and I didn’t ever see you again it would feel like - like a part of me was missing.” Bucky didn’t respond, but he didn’t pull away either. He wasn’t looking at Peter, just staring a hole into the ground at his feet. Peter gently tugged him back to the bed, pushing at his shoulders to make him sit again. “Bucky, I’m really asking you - please don’t leave.” Bucky finally nodded, still not making eye contact with him.

“Yeah, okay.” Peter didn’t know if Bucky believed him, but it was something. “Can I - why don’t you care? Why don’t you hate me?” Peter’s heart broke a little more.

“Because I don’t. You’re my friend, you’re - you care, and I care about you. I don’t know if I feel the same way, but I don’t not feel the same way.” Peter broke off, trying to find the words. “You’re-you’re special and I just don’t - I don’t want to lose what we have now, if we try for more and don’t get there.” Peter sat next to Bucky on the bed, close enough that their thighs pressed against each other.

Bucky took a deep breath. “Yeah, I - yeah I get that, Peter. Thanks for explaining.” His shoulders slumped and he still wouldn’t make eye contact with Peter, but he didn’t look like he was going to make a break for the window anymore so that was good. Peter put a hand on his thigh, and Bucky flinched. Peter jerked his hand back, blushing.

“Sorry, shit, sorry.” Bucky shook his head, waving off the apology.

“No, shit, it’s - I’m just not really, I’m not - I don’t know. I might need some time.” Peter nodded, and stood.

“Of course, yeah. Let me know? I’ll be - I can sleep on the couch, I guess, but please just don’t - don’t leave. Or if you need to leave, just, say goodbye, at least.” Peter made some kind of gesture with his hands - he wasn’t sure what he meant to indicate, but it didn’t get across either way.

Bucky caught his hand before he could move away. “No, wait - I, if you want to, uh, I wouldn’t mind if you stayed. I need time, not - not space. I just, yeah. If you wanted to leave or if I made you uncomfortable, don’t - don’t feel like you have to stay, but yeah. Just, yeah.” Peter beamed at him.

“Oh, sure. Yeah, of course I’ll stay.” Peter sat again, and it didn’t feel as awkward this time, pressed against Bucky’s leg and brushing arms. “We should - we should probably go to sleep, though.” Bucky nodded.

They both got up and changed into their pajamas, awkwardly not quite looking at each other but not quite not looking at each other either. When they both slipped under the covers, Bucky hesitated, not sure what their new boundaries were, but Peter slid over and wrapped his arms around the older man, pressing his face into Bucky’s chest like he’d done for the past few weeks. Bucky let his arms come up and wrap around Peter, hugging him close, and somehow they both fell asleep without any more words.

—————

Bucky woke slowly, and at first he didn’t realize why he was awake. Usually he resisted consciousness with every fiber of his being, but this morning his body _really_ wanted to be awake.

His eyes flew open as he realized exactly why that was, and he looked down his body to see Peter kissing and sucking his way down Bucky’s chest, one leg slotted in between Bucky’s, providing delicious friction against his hard on.

Bucky’s hand flew to Peter’s hair, tugging the boy up so he could look into his eyes. Peter went happily, smiling at Bucky as he met his gaze.

Bucky wasn’t sure what was happening, but he probably needed to stop it before it got much further. “Peter? What are - whas happn? Why are you-?” Peter gave him a sunny smile, and Bucky’s heart ached as he returned a shaky smile of his own.

“I decided I don’t care. I like you, you like me, the rest of it can wait. Let’s just be here for the moment, screw everyone and everything else.” Bucky took in the words with a fogginess not entirely from his sleepy state.

“But - yesterday, and you said you didn’t know. I don’t - I want you to be sure, Peter, I-I can’t - this can’t be nothing, for you.” Peter tilted his head and pressed a gentle kiss to Bucky’s wrist where his hand still rested in Peter’s hair.

“It’s not nothing, and I know, I’m not trying to - lead you on or anything. I’m just - I just don’t want to keep denying myself this, or anything else, just because I feel like I’m not worth it, or because I think it might hurt. I want to try, if you do.” Peter looked up at him, eyes clear, and Bucky hesitated.

“I don’t - I want to. I do want to.” He paused. “But I don’t know, this seems too easy. Something always goes wrong.” Peter shook his head, but Bucky pushed on. “I know you, Peter, and I believe you that you think you want this. But I can’t - just give me some time, okay?” Peter nodded, and drew back from where he was still plastered to Bucky’s chest.

“Y-Yeah, of course. Sorry, I guess I was moving kind of fast.” Bucky shook his head, and drew Peter into a tight hug.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, and believe me, I want to more than anything. But let’s just figure out everything else first, and then we can go from there?” Peter smiled, and nodded against Bucky’s chest.

Bucky let him go, and they both rolled out of bed on their respective sides, ready to start the day. As they changed, Peter kept sneaking glances at Bucky, who he noted with some satisfaction, was doing the same to him.

Before Peter opened the door to go downstairs where they could hear May and MJ debating the merits of regular versus turkey bacon, Bucky caught Peter’s hand, tugging him back.

“Wait, before we go downstairs - I just wanted to-” He tugged Peter in closer, and caught Peter’s lips with his. It was soft, chaste, and Peter rose up onto his toes to press more firmly into Bucky’s mouth, arms coming up to wrap around him.

All too soon, Bucky broke the kiss, and they both were left gasping for a few moments. “What was that for?” Peter’s question was soft, with no censure in it. Bucky smiled softly at him, rubbing a thumb over his cheek.

“I just - I wanted to make sure I didn’t lose the opportunity to do that, at least once.” Peter smiled back at him.

“Well, if you want to do it again, I’m here.” Bucky smiled too, and pushed the door open, gesturing for Peter to go first.


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all are so great and I really appreciate everyone who has commented and left kudos (and joined me in screaming over Peter Parker on discord lol)!

When they got downstairs, they found May won the argument, and a pan full of real bacon sizzled on the stove with MJ watching over it. Peter sat at the table, and Bucky went over to the stove to check on the bacon progress over MJ’s shoulder. She cheerfully forfeited the job to him, and he manned the pan dutifully, looking over his shoulder to shoot Peter a grin every once in a while.

The looks between the two boys didn’t go unnoticed by MJ and May, who exchanged a look with each other of half-exasperation, half-indulgence. May was the first to speak.

“So, Peter, do we have any plans for today?” Peter shrugged, turning towards her as he responded.

“I don’t know yet, I don’t think so. Bucky, was there anything you wanted to do?” Before Bucky could answer, however, EDITH cleared her throat in Peter’s ear and he held up a hand to indicate he was listening to something the others couldn’t hear.

“Peter, I have been asked to let you know by Director Fury that he needs to speak with you urgently, today if possible.” Peter frowned, wondering why Fury would want to speak with him. Whatever the reason, it couldn’t be good.

“Uh, I guess Fury says he needs to talk with me, so that’s probably going to be the plan for today.” Peter frowned. “EDITH, did Fury say what he needed to talk with me about? Or why it has to be soon?”

“He didn’t give a reason, Peter, but he did seem agitated. He insisted you come alone, and you are to leave the glasses at home.” Peter frowned. He really didn’t like the sound of that.

Bucky placed a plate of bacon in front of him, sitting down next to Peter. Peter took a piece and crunched absently, smiling when he realized Bucky knew he liked bacon on the crispy side.

“What does Fury want?” Bucky’s voice was laced with concern, and Peter turned to face him.

“I don’t know, he didn’t tell EDITH, he just said I needed to come alone and leave the glasses behind.” Bucky’s eyes narrowed, and he searched Peter’s face.

“You’re not planning on doing that, are you?” Peter shook his head.

“No, I figured you’d be able to come with me as backup? And I could just give you the glasses before I went inside, so you’d have EDITH watching the SHIELD cameras while I’m there. Or something.” Bucky nodded, and finally looked away.

“Good thinking. There’s no way I’m letting you go deal with those assholes without backup, no matter what they say.” Peter smiled at him.

May cleared her throat, and both boys looked up to see her and MJ seated across from them at the table. They’d both forgotten the others were there, and they blushed in unison.

“Well, I’m glad Peter will have backup if he’s going to SHIELD, but what about you, Bucky? Aren’t you worried someone could come after you?” Bucky shook his head.

“I’ll be okay, I can handle myself. And plus, if I have EDITH with me, she’ll watch my back in case anyone tries to get the drop on me.” May nodded.

Peter glanced at Bucky, and then put his hand on the other man’s. “EDITH, let Fury know I’ll be there, whatever time he wants. I can head out after breakfast if that works for him.” She confirmed that would work, and Peter finished eating slowly.

After they were all done eating, Peter and Bucky cleared the plates before heading out. Peter debated wearing his suit under his clothes, but he eventually decided against it, knowing if Fury said no glasses, what he really meant was no surveillance and he wouldn’t take kindly to Peter wearing his suit.

Bucky was jumpy the entire morning, twitching at every sound and whipping around whenever someone moved behind him. Peter laid a hand on his arm before they left, and Bucky leaned into the touch, his features softening as he looked down at Peter.

“Bucky, it’ll be okay. I’m not sure what Fury wants, but I’m sure it’s not world-ending, and even if it is, we’ve probably dealt with worse. I’ll go in, get whatever info he has for me, and get out. And I’ll tell you whatever it is, and we’ll face it together. How does that sound to you?” Bucky smiled down at him, reaching one hand up to brush Peter’s bangs back from his forehead.

“That sounds great, Peter. I think we’ll be fine - I’m just tense, you know I don’t like spies or secret organizations that much.” Peter nodded, and Bucky leaned down, brushing their lips together. Before they could do anything more than that, however, Peter turned abruptly, swinging to face MJ who leaned cooly against the doorway to the kitchen.

“What? If I had my sketchbook, I’d be sketching you. You’re both so bad at this, it’s great.” Bucky frowned and MJ smirked at him. “Watch yourself, buddy, because Peter is my best friend and if you hurt him, I will personally buy five hundred of those super strong tiny magnets and throw them into your arm when you’re not looking.” Bucky didn’t doubt the sincerity of her claim, and he saluted her.

“Ma’am, yes ma’am. I promise I never want to hurt Peter, and I won’t if I can help it.” MJ nodded, and turned on her heel to give them privacy. Bucky turned back to Peter, who pulled away to tug his shoes on.

“We should probably go, it’s already gonna be kind of crowded out there, and I wanted to get to SHIELD before it got worse. You know how the subway is in the summer.” Bucky wrinkled his nose, he _did_ know, and nodded in agreement.

They left after hugging MJ and May goodbye, and Bucky followed on Peter’s heels as he walked, tracing the familiar route to SHIELD headquarters. It was a fake office building concealing real offices on top, and the super-secret facility below the street level. Peter had been there a few times, and he knew the way in - through a secret entrance in an alleyway.

A few blocks away, Peter stopped walking, pulling Bucky out of the flow of people and up against the brick building next to them. He pulled his glasses off, handing them over to Bucky, and smiled at him.

“Here, I figured this was better to do here so Fury doesn’t give me shit about wearing them.” Bucky took the glasses, putting them on. “But you’re still gonna walk me there, right?” Peter looked up at him, shyly hopeful. Bucky glanced down at him, and smiled.

“Of course, and I’ll keep watch outside while you’re in there. EDITH can show me the best place to be, can’t you EDITH?” He cocked his head as he listened to the response, and Peter grinned at him, stepping closer. When Bucky looked back down, Peter was directly in front of him, and he leaned down to kiss him before thinking about it. Peter pulled back, darting a look towards the people walking by, and Bucky nodded in acquiescence. “Right, sorry.” Peter smiled at him.

“It’s no problem, just want to be sure we aren’t seen by anyone. Once we figure out what this latest crisis is, we can figure out everything else out from there.” Bucky nodded, sweeping the crowds passing by with his eyes, searching for danger. He found none, but kept an eye towards the masses of people anyways.

Peter disentangled himself and took Bucky’s hand, leading him towards the entrance to SHIELD. “Come on, let’s not keep Fury waiting.” Bucky let himself be led, and they made their way back down the street.

Once they were a block away from the entrance, Peter stopped again, and Bucky let go of his hand.

“This is my stop, and unless you want to get chewed out by Fury, you should probably go find somewhere to keep watch. I’ll see you soon?” Peter reached out his hand, and Bucky pulled him into a tight hug, squeezing.

They broke apart after a moment, and Bucky smiled at Peter. “I’ll see you after your meeting.” Peter smiled back at him, and gave a wave before heading in the direction of the secret entrance.

Bucky, left alone to find somewhere to monitor Peter’s trip into SHIELD, looked up and scouted the surrounding buildings to find a good spot to keep watch. A few were promising, and he finally settled on one that had a fire escape up to the roof and no roofs blocking the views of the sidewalks on three sides.

He climbed swiftly, legs and arms pulling his body up to the roof. Once he got there, he scouted the area from his perch and then settled in to wait.

“EDITH, can you get me footage from inside SHIELD?” An overlay of the surrounding area popped up on his readout, and he took in as much of the information as he could while she worked.

“I have access to their cameras, but there are areas that are completely surveillance free. Director Fury insists on having SCIFs available at all times, ever since it was discovered that Hydra infiltrated SHIELD.” Bucky nodded, grimacing.

“And I’m willing to bet that’s where he’s talking with Peter.” EDITH beeped a confirmation in his ear.

“Correct. Here is the footage I have of Peter inside the facility.” A smaller box popped up in one corner of the glasses, and Bucky watched Peter walking down a grainy hallway. He was flanked by two SHIELD goons, and looked small in between the two taller agents. Bucky bristled at the idea of Peter being intimidated by SHIELD agents who had no idea who he was, but he was too far away to do anything about it, and he knew Peter could handle himself if he had to.

At the end of the hallway, the camera switched and Bucky saw Fury waiting as Peter approached. Fury nodded to the SHIELD guards, and they left, leaving him alone with Peter. Fury opened the door behind him, and Peter entered the room, followed by Fury, who shot a look directly into the camera Bucky watched from before closing the door.

“That room is completely safe from surveillance of any kind, and I cannot access it at all. But I am watching the hallways all around, and I will let you know if there is any change.” Bucky nodded at the additional information from EDITH, and settled in to watch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is everyone ready?


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooohh second to last chapter! Yay! 
> 
> information you may need for this chapter: A Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility (SCIF; pronounced "skiff"), in British and United States military, national security/national defense and intelligence parlance, is an enclosed area within a building that is used to process Sensitive Compartmented Information (SCI) types of classified information. It's basically a super-secure nobody-can-listen-in-no-matter-what room for government officials.

After fifteen minutes or so, Bucky’s readouts all went red, and he jumped up from his seated position on the roof.

“EDITH, what’s happening?” Her voice came after a moment. Bucky was already halfway down the fire escape when she answered.

“I don’t know, I’m detecting some kind of disturbance inside SHIELD, it looks like their security is compromised. I cannot access whole areas of the building, I believe the attack was designed to take out large sections of the cameras, not just access them.” Bucky hit the ground running, sprinting the hundred or so feet towards the entrance.

When he reached the door, he tugged hard, nearly pulling it off the hinges. It was a reinforced alloy designed to look like a regular bunker door, and he levered it open, ignoring the screeching of metal and sounding alarms he no doubt set off. If they weren’t already ringing, he wanted everyone in the building on high alert.

“EDITH, do you have eyes on Peter? Is he in one of the areas that lost video?” Bucky hurried down a set of aluminum stairs, and when he met three armed SHIELD goons at the bottom, he wasted no time in taking them out of commission.

“I do not know where he is at present, he was on a floor that lost video. Sixth floor, southern side, the SCIF is clearly marked.” Bucky let go of the last guy, letting him fall to the floor unconscious, and broke into a run. He ran straight past the elevators and skidded to a stop outside the stairs. Stairs were almost always faster than elevators, and they didn’t stop working if someone pulled the fire alarm.

“Alright, EDITH, keep your eyes open and let me know once you know what the purpose of the attack is. I refuse to believe this is just a lucky break that happened while Peter is here.” He took the stairs three at a time, pounding down as red lights flashed overhead. He could hear people running past the doors and shouting, but nobody was in the stairwell except for him right now.

“I have determined who is leading the attack.” EDITH paused, and Bucky growled.

“Well? Who is it?” He had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, he already knew but he needed to hear her say it.

“Quentin Beck, AKA Mysterio, is the leader of the attack against SHIELD. It appears he wants to capture Peter Parker.” Bucky saw a large yellow “3” painted on the wall as he kept going.

Not fast enough, not going to be fast enough. Blood pumped in his ears, and he found himself on the sixth floor after another few precious seconds.

“EDITH, where do I go?” A path lit up in front of him, and he bounded down the narrow corridors. “Shit!” Four more SHIELD goons with guns turned on him, in between Bucky and the path he needed to follow. He could take them on, but he wasn’t sure he had the time. “Any chance you guys want to just let me by?” He held his left arm up, the metal glinting. “I’m the Winter Soldier, I’m on your side now, and my friend is in trouble.” The agents didn’t move, and Bucky sighed, dropping into a fighting stance. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

He broke towards them in a run, which they didn’t expect, and two of the agents nearly dropped their guns at the sight. Bucky didn’t pause. He grabbed the muzzle of the one closest to him and ducked, swinging the gun around so it pointed at the gun’s owner’s neighbor’s leg, just as the shot went off. The agent that was shot went down, and Bucky used the momentum of his body to tip the one whose gun he grabbed off balance. He straightened and turned towards the other two, a weary grin on his lips.

“Who’s next?” Bucky ducked before they could answer, throwing an elbow and catching one in the gut, then twirling to sweep a leg behind the knees of the other. They both fell and Bucky was up and moving over them before they hit the ground.

“EDITH, any news?” His readout was still red tinted, but he heard less shooting above him, which he hoped was a good sign.

“I don’t - I’m not sure. I was not able to track the asshole, he seemed to know where the camera outages were, and I still cannot find Peter on any surveillance video.” EDITH’s voice was trembly and worried, and Bucky swore under his breath. He’d never heard her sound like that, and that worried him more than anything else.

“Shit, well, point me towards the last known location.” The path highlighted in his vision again and he changed his course to follow, running until he saw signs for SCIF 2. He followed the arrows and rounded a corner to see smoke and bullet holes in the hallway. As he sprinted, Bucky recognized the hallway as the one Peter walked down to enter the room with Fury, and pushed his legs harder.

When he reached the other end of the hallway, the door to the room was open, and he skidded to a stop before he reached it. He drew his gun and approached the door warily, not sure who or what was behind it.

“Peter? Are you there?” Bucky heard a low moan from inside the room, and he charged through the door. Inside, Fury lay against one wall, bleeding steadily from a head wound. Bucky made his way over and examined the cut.

Once he was sure it wasn’t life-threatening, he tilted Fury’s head back, forcing the man to look at his face.

“Fury, Fury where is he?” Fury just groaned, clearly concussed, and tried to train his eye on Bucky’s face. He couldn’t, and Bucky gave him another shake. “Fury, I need to know. Where is Peter?”

It took a couple tries, but the man eventually pulled himself together enough to answer. “He-He’s gone. Beck took him.” Bucky stood swiftly, and Fury reached out to grab his leg before he could move again. “Wait - wait. You need to know.” Bucky waited, and Fury spluttered a few times and spit blood onto the floor before trying again. “He’s - Peter was here because I had information, Beck planned - he planned to reveal Peter’s identity to the world. He must ha-have leaked that information so I’d call Peter here, so he could attack.” Bucky nodded, and dislodged the man’s hand from his pants.

“I got it. I’m going to get him back.” Fury nodded, and Bucky left without another glance. “EDITH, make sure the medics get to Fury as soon as you can, he needs medical attention and I need him back on his feet as soon as possible.” She chirped a confirmation in his ear. “And get me everything you can on Beck - his hideouts, his aliases, what he ate last. Everything.”

“Compiling now, Boss.” Bucky strode through the halls of SHIELD, intent on nothing but getting his Peter back.

When Bucky got back to street level - thankfully without running into any more SHIELD goons, although he had a couple close calls - he paused for a couple seconds to catch his breath. The street was just as he’d left it, no sirens, nobody running or screaming or anything else to signify something monumental happened.

“EDITH, so we have anything yet?” Bucky started jogging towards the tower, the last place he knew Beck to be, as he waited for her answer.

“I don’t have much, I’m afraid, Boss. After losing control over my weapons systems, he has been unusually quiet, even including his truce with Peter, and I am left to believe he may have spent more time examining my blind spots than I originally believed. I have only one point three seconds of his image on SHIELD camera, and before that, I cannot find any trace of him outside the tower for a week. There are areas inside the tower where he is not on surveillance, but I did not realize he was leaving for periods of time.” Bucky cursed and jogged faster.

He knew it was a slim to none chance that Beck was at the tower, but it was better than sitting around and doing nothing. EDITH out up the video stills of Beck in the corner of his vision and he watched the clip on a loop as he jogged.

When he got to the tower, Bucky looked up the sides of the gleaming skyscraper before pushing open the doors and striding inside. The lobby was deserted, but when he approached the elevators, the doors opened for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter tomorrow! Is everyone ready??? Do you have predictions?


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohmigawd this is the final chapter! Aaahhhhh. Seriously, I want to thank everyone that's been reading and commenting and leaving kudos (and my awesome discord peeps - y'all rock!) and a special thanks to tfwfangirlsatk for beta-ing and kicking ass and generally poking me until I finished this.

“Hey, asshole!” Bucky’s voice was loud in the quiet, and he stepped onto the elevator without hesitation, glaring at where he knew the cameras were. “You better be here, or I swear to god, I’ll hunt you down.” The elevator started moving, and he tensed further.

When it finally stopped and the doors opened, Bucky stepped out. The penthouse wasn’t that different from the video he’d watched before, and he walked carefully, eyes darting around as he scanned for threats. As far as he could tell, he was the only one there.

“EDITH, is there anywhere here he could be hiding?” Bucky stepped into the kitchen, glaring at the table before looking through all the cabinets methodically.

“I am not aware of anywhere he could be hiding, but clearly he is aware of my blind spots and using them to his advantage.” Bucky swore under his breath, and moved on to the next room.

He tore through the penthouse, searching everywhere Beck could possibly have hidden anything related to where he’d take Peter, and when he finally reached what looked like a study, Bucky’s hope was on its last legs. He was running out of time, and if he didn’t find Peter soon, he couldn’t stop something bad happening.

In the study he searched all of the desk drawers and in the bottom one, he found printouts from a surveillance camera. It was a different angle than the ones EDITH used, which meant Beck likely set up his own. EDITH would block him from using the tower cameras to spy on Peter, Bucky was sure of it.

The printouts showed Peter and Bucky, standing together outside the building. The top one was from the night before, when Peter grabbed Bucky’s arm as he tried to talk to him, and they went back as far as the second night Bucky went with Peter to the tower, showing them interacting outside the doors before and after Peter’s activities with Beck.

From the pictures, Bucky saw what Beck saw. Peter had another man helping him, someone watching his back and checking on him when he finished with Beck. Couple that with Peter’s standing up to the man and his refusal to play by his rules, and Beck likely thought he had a rival in Bucky, or at least a real threat to the status quo.

Bucky flipped back to the one from the night before. The angle was skewed and blurry, but it looked like Peter stood closer than he had, was either kissing Bucky or leaning against him. Beck probably thought it was more than it looked, which explained his actions. Bucky knew he was a jealous man, and wouldn’t hesitate to destroy Peter rather than let someone else have him.

Bucky gathered up the printouts, shoving them under his arm as he searched the rest of the room.

“EDITH, how are we on where he might be?” Bucky concluded his search of the room, finding nothing else of importance, stalking back out to the main room.

“I don’t have anything, Bucky, I’m sorry. He is covering his tracks well, and I haven’t found any transmissions suggesting where he is heading.” Bucky punched the wall nearest him in frustration.

“Fuck! I can’t - EDITH, I have to find him. I can’t let this happen, it’s my fault he’s even with that asshole. If I hadn’t been there, with him when he was here, Beck might not have - he wouldn’t have taken him again.” The plates of his arm whirred as Bucky talked, a nervous habit.

“Boss, it’s not your fault he took Peter.” Bucky snarled. “But I suggest returning to SHIELD, they may have additional information for you regarding the asshole’s whereabouts.” Bucky nodded, resigned to asking Fury for help tracking Peter and Beck down.

He stepped into the waiting elevator, and the doors closed smoothly behind him. Once he was back on the first floor, walking through the lobby, he shoved the pictures in his pocket, crumpling them so they’d fit.

“Boss?” He stopped at EDITH’s voice in his ear. “There’s something you should see.” Bucky nodded, pausing before the doors out of the lobby.

“Show me.” She did.

A box popped up in his vision, showing a video feed somewhere in Central Park. Since it was still early, there weren’t many people around, and Beck had armed thugs standing with him. Once he realized what he was seeing, Bucky broke into a run towards Central Park.

On the screen of the glasses, he watched the unfolding drama as he ran. Bucky spared half a thought to his super-soldier ability to multitask, or else he would have probably fallen and face planted into the cement.

Beck stood in front of the camera, and Peter was with him. Beck held Peter by the throat, and Peter stood meekly, not resisting the grip. He still wore his suit, though Bucky knew it was only a matter of time before that changed.

“Bucky, this feed is being broadcast live, many news stations are playing it live on air.” EDITH sounded worried, and Bucky pushed himself faster. 

On the feed Beck held Peter up, shaking him. Peter’s arms and legs hung limp, and Bucky’s heart clenched at the thought of Beck drugging Peter. Whatever he gave Peter really affected him, and the boy swayed in Beck’s grip.

“Here we have the amazing, the magnificent Spider-Man!” Beck shook Peter a little as he talked, still holding him up by the neck. Bucky recognized the part of Central Park they were in - it was Belvedere Castle, the miniaturized castle at the heart of the Park. “And we all love a good hero, don’t we?”

Bucky was still too far out, and he pushed himself faster even as he watched. Beck shifted Peter in his grip, pulling off his mask for the camera. Peter’s eyes were glazed and slow, clearly under the influence of some kind of drug. “Here we have one Peter Benjamin Parker, who thought he was a hero.” Beck shifted again, moving so he held Peter against one of the marble columns. Peter’s feet were off the ground, and from the way his hands came up weakly to bat at Beck’s hand around his throat, he couldn’t breathe.

Beck continued as though Peter’s protests weren’t there. “Well, he was. And now, maybe everyone will think better of being a hero if this is what happens to you.” Beck held Peter higher, laughing as Peter struggled against the grip. Peter couldn’t pull Beck’s fingers from his throat, and Bucky watched his movements grow slower and more labored. 

Bucky’s legs burned and his chest heaved, he hadn’t been so out of breath since he got the serum. He fought the black edges around his vision as he strained, trying to starve off the need for oxygen to his lungs.

When the park came into view, Bucky put on one last burst of speed, watching on his glasses as he ran. Beck was still strangling Peter, but as Bucky came into view of the castle, he saw them standing at the top in parallel to the view from the feed. Beck looked into the camera and smirked. “Now, whoever had the nerve to touch what’s mine, you know how much of a mistake it was. Don’t do it again, and I might let you live.” He dragged Peter away from the pillar, and towards the same edge Bucky was running towards. Bucky saw the sheer forty foot drop and the pond below from his vantage point, and he fought the screaming pain in his lungs as he kept moving.

“No!” Bucky was too far. Beck shoved and Peter went tumbling back, over the short lip of the castle edge and down. Bucky watched as Peter fell in slow motion, not even trying to stop his fall before hitting the surface of the pond. The water broke his fall a little, but there was a large splash and ripples from the point he impacted at. He didn’t pop back up immediately. “Peter! Peter!” Bucky didn’t have the ability to talk, let alone yell, and he wasn’t sure he’d really spoken until the echo drifted back towards him.

Bucky ignored the signs telling him not to swim in the pond, and when he reached the edge of the water, he didn’t stop, charging right in. He widened his strides to cover distance as the water resisted his motion, and once it was up to his mid thighs he dove, pulling the water past him with strong arms. It was disgusting pond water, full of slime and muck and an assortment of things best not thought about, but Bucky’s eyes stayed open, searching the gloomy water for Peter.

Peter had landed near the edge closer to the castle wall, and it was only about seven feet deep in that area. When Bucky reached the right area, he shot up to the surface to draw in a breath that tasted like mildew and bird shit before diving down, hands searching the sediment at the bottom of the pond.

Time stretched and bent, curving around him as he searched the bottom of the pond for Peter. Bucky’s whole body burned, lungs ached, but he kept looking. Finally his hand brushed something that was definitely not pond muck.

He grabbed, pulling himself towards whatever it was and pulling it to him in the same motion. Once he had a better grip he realized it was Peter’s foot, still in the suit, and he tugged harder. From his position, Bucky quickly gathered Peter into his arms, holding him tight to his chest as he kicked off the bottom.

Bucky’s head broke the surface and he gasped, pulling air in as fast as he could. With quick, strong strokes he kicked over to the edge of the pond, taking care to keep Peter’s head above the water. Peter hadn’t coughed when they surfaced, but sometimes it took a minute.

Once he dragged them out of the water, legs burning at the added weight in his arms, Bucky knelt on the grass. He lowered Peter gently down, tilting his head so if - _when,_ when _he coughs up water_ \- he wouldn’t choke on it.

“Hey Peter, hey. You’re okay, you’re gonna be okay-” Bucky talked as he fumbled with Peter’s wrist, looking for a pulse. He gripped Peter’s hand, lacing their fingers together as he held two fingers of his flesh hand over Peter’s pulse point. He didn’t feel anything.

He leaned over, putting his face directly in Peter’s as he held his ear above the boy’s mouth, listening for breath. Peter wasn’t breathing, Bucky couldn’t hear any movements of his chest or feel anything on his cheek.

“It’s okay, Peter, fuck, it’s okay, I know - I can do something, there’s something-” Bucky tried to remember CPR. He was trained by HYDRA in the 1990s and he was loathe to use any of their training, but if it was for Peter he’d do anything. When he started chest compressions he heard the awful tune of Stayin’ Alive in his head - May insisted on 70s night as they had dinner once, and MJ commented it was the exact tempo to perform CPR to.

Bucky’s laugh was hysterical as he did the compressions, but he counted in his head before leaning over and pressing his lips to Peter’s, breathing out and forcing air into his lungs. He started the compressions again, and as he worked, he noticed Peter’s eyes were closed.

“Fuck, Peter, hon you can’t - you can’t go to sleep yet, okay? Please, just - I need you to stay with me, fuck, Peter, you can’t - I can’t do this without you, okay?” Bucky talked at Peter while he did the compressions and when he leaned over again, breathing in deep and forcing the air into Peter’s lungs, he opened his eyes, searching Peter’s closed ones for something. Anything.

He finished breathing for Peter and leaned back, ready to start compressions again.

“Mr. Barnes.” He’d forgotten he still had the glasses on, and EDITH’s voice was unexpected in his ear. He hadn’t given the glasses a thought before diving into the pond, but they were apparently waterproof.

“What?” He bit out the word, curt, and pressed his palms to Peter’s chest, over his heart. As he started doing compressions once more, he focused on Peter’s face, peaceful as Bucky worked. Peter’s face was almost never peaceful, the boy was so expressive - every emotion right there to read. It was one of the things Bucky loved most about him, that he was so unguarded with his feelings. To see him look neutral, no expression, was distinctly uncomfortable.

“Mr. Barnes. You - you’ve performed admirably, sir, but I do not believe there is anything else that can be done.” He’d never heard her hesitate before, and he was certain he didn’t like it now.

“No! You’re - no, EDITH, that’s not right. Peter’s fine, he’s going to be fine. I just need to - and he’s, he’s got his powers, they’ll help him. I just need to keep - keep doing this.” He leaned down to press his lips against Peter’s once more, exhaling forcefully, pushing his disgust at EDITH’s suggestion into the breath and feeling Peter’s chest lift slightly below him.

“Mr. Barnes.” He closed his eyes momentarily, and then started compressions again. “I am transferring ownership of the EDITH system to James Buchanan Barnes, as he is the next in line designated by Peter Parker. You now have full access to the EDITH mainframe, and databases.”

Bucky screamed, a wordless expression of rage. “No! No, you do not get to do that! EDITH, you know - I’m not - fuck! I can’t, I’m not the person he thought I was. I’m not a good person. EDITH, please, I shouldn’t have you. I - I killed him.” His hands rested on Peter’s chest, not compressing or pumping his blood for him, just sitting there. “It was, it was me. I’m the reason he’s-” He took a deep shuddering breath, still feeling strangely bereft of oxygen.

“I can’t - fuck, I can’t breathe right.” He inhaled again, his chest puffing out until he felt the twinge in his side that meant he would hurt himself if he tried to inhale more air, but it stuck in his throat. His last full breath was the one he breathed into Peter’s lungs, and he wasn’t getting it back. “Peter, come on, you can’t do this to me. I don’t know how to do this, I was barely living without you, you can’t expect me to just go on.” Peter didn’t answer him, still lying motionless on the ground.

Bucky brushed the hair out of Peter’s eyes, tucking it behind his ear. Peter’s hair was so long, May teased him about needing to get it cut a couple days before and he’d blown her off. He ran his hand through Peter’s hair again, the motion soothing.

“Mr. Barnes, I do not want to interrupt you-” He snarled as EDITH’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“Well, you are interrupting me. Look, just - don’t, just don’t. I don’t want to hear it.” He bent slightly, sliding his hands under Peter’s back and knees and gathering the boy to his chest. His words from the night before came back to him, mocking him. Holding you here, like this - it feels safe. It helps me know you’re safe. He thought Peter was safe with him. Peter should have known better than to trust him.

“Mr. Barnes, I’m afraid I must insist on interrupting.” His head shot up, intent on arguing with her, and he noticed a small crowd of people watching him. They were gathered quite a ways away, but even as he watched, a couple grew bolder and stepped towards him. “The video was distributed live on air, and there are several interested parties headed your way. I must suggest that you leave, immediately.”

Bucky nodded his agreement wordlessly. EDITH was bad enough, but dealing with the police or random passers-by would be a whole other ballgame.

“Can - can you find somewhere for us to go? For a while, so I can - so I can think?” She hummed in response, and then a blinking dot appeared on his readout. He stood, cradling Peter to his chest and taking care not to bump him unnecessarily. “Where is it?” He kept an eye on the rubberneckers and circled around the edge of the pond away from them and towards the direction she indicated.

“Director Fury requested your presence.” He snarled again, but his feet kept moving in the same direction.

“What makes you think I want to be on the same planet as that man right now?” His heartbeat was too loud in his ears, his head strained and it felt like he had too much blood, like his skin was too tight.

“He requested your presence, and he has information for you. He also says he has ways to keep all interested parties out until you’re ready.” Bucky nodded, turning the information over in his mind.

“Fine. Tell him I don’t want to see anyone, I don’t want to deal with any of his top security bullshit, just let me - I just need somewhere to put Peter down, somewhere safe.” He kept putting one foot in front of the other, slowly but surely making his way towards SHIELD with EDITH’s help.

“He will meet you at the entrance.” Bucky grunted, and EDITH was finally silent for a while. As he walked through the city people stared at him - a huge man with a metal arm carrying the de-masked Spider-Man in his arms, both soaking wet. One or two of the people tried approaching and he growled at them until they went away.

When he got close to SHIELD, Bucky’s footsteps slowed. He couldn’t help but pause on the corner where Peter hugged him goodbye a few hours before, staring down at a crack in the concrete under his boot.

“Mr. Barnes?” Director Fury is waiting.” He grunted at EDITH again, but finally nodded and kept moving.

When he got to the door Peter entered through a few hours before, Fury was there. No other agents or guards were in sight, but Bucky didn’t doubt there were plenty around, waiting to see what he did. He wanted to know what he would do too.

“Fury.” His voice sounded flat, like he didn’t care. He couldn’t think of a convincing reason for it not to be, so he didn’t bother to pretend.

“Mr. Barnes. I have an area for you, follow me.” Fury turned on his heel without waiting for Bucky’s response and entered through the secret door. Bucky huffed out a breath and followed, shifting Peter in his arms so the boy wouldn’t be jostled too much in the narrow corridors.

They walked silently through the maze of offices, training rooms, and other assorted areas, and Fury finally stopped in front of a large steel door. **Morgue** was stamped into the metal, and Fury pulled the door open, gesturing for Bucky to enter first.

Bucky bristled, but did, showing his back to the spy. He walked through the door sideways and stopped upon seeing a single table in the room, with a sheet draped over it. There weren’t any chairs

“No. I’m not - no, I won’t leave him here. You can’t have him.” He turned, intent on storming out of the room, and Fury stepped smoothly between him and the door, shutting it before he could walk through. Bucky had to either stop in his tracks or risk bumping Peter. He stopped.

“You can leave him here, and you will leave him here.” Fury advanced on Bucky, forcing him back rather than letting the other man close to him and the boy in his arms. “You have something you need to do.”

Bucky shook his head. “I won’t - I’m not doing anything else for you. You were the one that asked me to check on him, you wanted me to make sure he was okay.” Bucky’s breath came in short pants now, hissing between his clenched teeth. “Well, I did. I checked on him. I made sure he was safe.” His hands wanted to clench into fists, but he couldn’t with Peter still in his arms. “Look at what that got him. This is what I did to him.” Fury shook his head, still advancing.

“You didn’t do this. You tried to stop this.” Bucky laughed without any mirth. “You did, Barnes, you wanted to stop the man who is really responsible for this.” Bucky glared at him. “And he’s still out there. While you’re in here. You’re letting him go, so you can stay here and cry over a dead body.” Bucky snarled, baring his teeth, but Fury looked unimpressed at his show of force.

“I’m not - I don’t want to fight anymore, I can’t. I’m done.” Fury nodded.

“I know. And I can’t ask you to fight, if you don’t want to.” Fury paused meaningfully. “But Stark, the person who was the closest Peter had to a father since his uncle died, he was an Avenger. Peter was too, although we hadn’t officially added him to the roster. You know what they did? They Avenged. They went out and made sure everyone knew what happens when you mess with their family.” Bucky couldn’t look at him anymore, and he looked down to Peter, still in his arms. Peter’s face was still that cold lack of expression.

“I - I’m not good, I’m not like them. I don’t know if I can.” Fury hummed at him, not answering. “He - he wanted to make sure nobody else would get hurt. He would have - shit, would have given everything to keep Beck from hurting anyone else. Did give everything.” Bucky sighed, the sound leaving him like he’d been punched.

Slowly, so slowly that he almost couldn’t feel the movement, he turned towards the table. He took one step, two steps, and lay Peter down onto the sheet carefully. As his hands left Peter’s body, they hooked into claws, tension straining through him.

Fury was still behind him, but didn’t try to get closer. “We can make sure he’s safe here. But you need to go.” Bucky nodded, and closed his eyes. He breathed in, feeling the air almost reach his lungs, and held the breath until his chest was on fire. When he breathed out, his hands were steady again.

“I’ll be back. Don’t move him.” Fury nodded.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Bucky strode out of the room, letting his feet move on autopilot. He made his way out of the underground building, and when he was on the street again, he looked around.

“EDITH, do you have anything for me on Beck?” His readout hopped with motion, displaying information for every person that walked by. The full display of EDITH’s power was impressive, and Bucky hated it more than words could express.

“He has been attempting to stay off the grid, but his methods are getting sloppy. I managed to track a burner phone that sent a text to a known associate of his in the shipyards, he will attempt to leave the city by boat tonight. I traced the communications of the contact, and have mapped out his most logical location. Bucky nodded, and she threw up a map without him having to speak.

“Good, thanks EDITH.” She chirped at him, and he set off.

Once he got to the shipyards, it was only a matter of finding the right container. Shipping containers aren’t built for comfort, and Bucky knew the best ones were high enough so vermin couldn’t get in, new but not so new they drew attention, and faced east-west instead of north-south so they’d heat up less in the afternoon sun. He scanned the yard, and located three that fit all the criteria.

He made his way to the first without hesitation, hauling himself onto the stack of containers and peering inside the doors. It was empty, and so was the second one he looked in. When he got close to the third, he heard voices from inside.

“No, you idiot, I don’t want to eat! I want to leave this goddamn city, and fast. The asshole that touched my Peter is the winter fucking soldier, and I want out as fast as I can. My drones are fucked, they were destroyed attacking SHIELD, so it’s just me, and I need off this island!” The voice rose in volume as it spoke, and Bucky listened at the crack of the door for a moment before clamping his hand on the latch and swinging it wide open.

Both men standing inside the shipping container whirled around, and the one holding a large gun hoisted it, pointing it at Bucky. Bucky didn’t hesitate, and walked towards them both. The man fired and Bucky held up his left hand, the bullets bouncing harmlessly off the metal. As he realized his gun had no effect, the man dropped it and tried to run past him, making for the opening of the container. Bucky, without moving his eyes from Beck, held out a hand and the man clotheslined himself on Bucky’s wrist, falling to the ground with a thud.

Beck looked stricken, and he backed up as Bucky approached.

“Hey, come on man, you know I didn’t mean it, I wouldn’t have if I knew-” Bucky was nearly on top of him, and his hand clamped down over the man’s mouth, cutting off his words.

“Shut. _Up_.” Beck nodded, not trying to speak again. Bucky dropped his hand. “Follow.” He turned and moved back towards the entrance of the shipping container. Bucky scooped up the man who’d knocked himself out, slinging him over a shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Beck did follow him, probably taking in the unsubtle threat to his life if he didn’t.

Bucky walked through the streets with one man over his shoulder, one trailing behind him. EDITH displayed the route to SHIELD and he followed it, thoughts muted and numb. When he finally got back, Fury again waited at the door, this time with a pair of goons to take Beck and the unconscious man. Bucky shoved both of them in the general direction of the agents, not caring if the one he carried hit the ground.

Fury held up a hand when Bucky went to go back inside. “Wait, wait.” Bucky growled, but held off on ripping the man limb from limb.

“What?” Fury regarded him impassively, and Bucky stood, immovable, waiting.

“If you want to stay with him, that’s your choice.” Fury’s voice was even, and that calm he had made Bucky want to strangle him.

“No, I’m done. I did what you asked, I didn’t even hurt him because P-Peter wouldn’t approve, and I’m done. I’m out, no more missions, no more one more thing, you don’t own me, and I owe you nothing.” Fury sighed softly.

“Are you done? Good. I’m not going to ask you to do anything for me, just like before, I only asked you to do what Peter would have wanted. I just want you to think about his family. May, and his friends, they only saw the news coverage that we couldn’t stop in time. I haven’t been able to tell them anything yet, we’ve been dealing with other fires.” Bucky’s mouth tasted like ash and his breathing hurt again. “I know you said you’re done, and you can be done if you want. But either you deliver the news yourself, or I have to send an agent in a suit to let them know.” Bucky closed his eyes.

“No.” He’d spent enough time with May, he knew she’d had enough men in suits showing up on her front door with bad news for ten lifetimes. He couldn’t ask that of her again, he could tell her himself. “No, I’ll do it.” Fury may have nodded or shook his head, but Bucky’s eyes were still closed. He stood still so long he could swear he could feel the Earth rotating under his feet. When he finally opened them again, Fury had gone.

With shaking legs, he finally set out for the only home he could remember, an apartment full of people he had to hurt again and a bed that still smelled like Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooo...... I may have lied when I promised everyone would get a happy ending. I swear I thought they would at the time! I'm sorryyyyyyy...... I really wanted to give them a happy ending but I tried and I couldn't. :(
> 
> (Please don't hate me!)


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, this is gonna be a long A/N but please read all of it - it's important. 
> 
> First, I really wanna thank everyone that left kudos and comments letting me know they liked the story! Y'all are incredible and I had so much fun going on this journey with y'all. Relatedly, to everyone that felt the need to leave really mean comments and generally tell me that I ended OSFTSB wrong and that I'm dead to you or whatever - fuck off, I do not give a shit, I wrote this *for free* because I wanted to, and I owe you exactly nothing. If you are someone that felt the need to leave me a mean comment or tell me that you didn't want me to end it like I did, you can go. This chapter is not for you. 
> 
> So, about this chapter. No matter what I say, I know I won't be able to convince some of you that this was my plan all along, but it was. Before you feel the need to leave nasty comments accusing me of things, keep in mind that I will delete them and laugh at you for being whiny assholes. I almost didn't post this because people were so mean about the way I ended it, I was pretty much ready to stop writing for a while and let the ending of 41 be the ending of the story. But the lovely tfwfangirlsatk (beta and generally all around awesome person who kicks my ass and reminds me that I can actually write better than I think I can) assured me that she would not let me leave it where 41 ended, so I wrote this mainly because she wouldn't let me not. So, have at it. Let me know what you think. Just don't be an asshole about it.

**Please read the Author's Note above before reading this chapter. Thanks!**

Peter Parker woke to the sound of Tony Stark’s voice. He knew the sound instinctively, dreamed about it both sleeping and awake, but he’d never expected to hear from the man himself again. 

“…Peter, look, this is, this is _something_. It could be something big. I was hoping that - I want to leave this for you, in case something happens. In case we, by some miracle, do end up bringing everyone back.” As he took in the words, Peter’s brain came back online, and once he realized what he was hearing, he shot up, eyes blinking against a harsh light, looking for Tony. 

It took a few moments for his vision to clear, and he rubbed at his eyes, still trying to find the source of the voice. He finally lighted on a figure seated in a chair on the other side of the room, and when he focused his eyes, he saw it was Tony. 

“Mr. Stark? What are - how are you here? What’s happening?” The memories from before he lost consciousness filtered back through his foggy brain, and Peter remembered being kidnapped, drugged, and strangled by Beck. He thought he remembered someone calling his name too. Instead of trying to sort out the bleary memories, he focused on Mr. Stark again. 

Tony sat in the chair, looking in front of him instead of at Peter. As Peter watched, he sighed, and ran his hands through his hair roughly, rumpling it. “I just wanted to leave this for you, in case you make it but I don’t. I’m leaving you EDITH, which is - honestly, it’s probably something you’re not ready for. Having that much power. It can be scary, it’s a little terrifying to me still, but there is nobody I trust more than you, Peter.” Peter couldn’t believe his ears, but he didn’t want to miss any of what Mr. Stark said so he held his breath, waiting. 

“Peter, you’re - you’re a good kid. I’m so, _so_ sorry I couldn’t save you, that I wasn’t able to-” Tony cut off, choked with some emotion. He took a moment to compose himself before continuing. “If I know one thing, it’s that I couldn’t be more proud of you, because I know you were just trying to do the best thing for everyone else. But please, Peter, please promise me something.” Peter nodded, scared to speak in case he woke himself up from this dream. 

“Peter, please just - please try to take care of yourself. You’re going to go through a lot, more than anyone has any right to ask of you, and I just - I need to know you’re okay. I need you to _be_ okay. Please, take care of yourself, get help, take time off, do whatever you need to do to make sure you’re alright. I couldn’t - I couldn’t live with myself if you ended up hurt because of me.” Peter was crying now, and he nodded again, tears slipping down his face. 

Tony was silent for a long moment, and Peter thought he was finally done. What Peter didn’t expect was Tony to stand up and look directly at him before walking over to the bed. 

“Mr. - Mr. Stark? What’s - what are you-?” Tony stopped a few feet short of the bed, and Peter was frozen, unable to reach out for him. 

“I know you don’t want to hear this, and believe me, if you’re watching this, it means something went right and then wrong, because I entrusted this to exactly one person, with specific instructions.” Tony rubbed at the bridge of his nose warily, closing his eyes before opening them again. “To not play this for you unless and until you do something _really stupid_ and end up nearly getting yourself killed.” He crossed his arms, and Peter shrank back a little. 

“So you almost died, and here I am. And I’m telling you this. Don’t let yourself be alone. Don’t push away the people closest to you, and don’t - just don’t be like me, kid. You’re better than I ever was, and I need to do this knowing you’re going to be okay. So please, just listen to me. I-I want this. Don’t waste your life. Please Peter, don’t waste your life.” Tony gulped visibly, and reached one shaky hand towards Peter, before stopping himself. He looked at Peter softly. Peter reached out to him, and when his fingers were a few inches from Tony’s, Tony dissolved like one of Beck’s holograms. 

Peter sat there, stunned, for a couple moments. “Mr. - Mr. Stark? Are you - are you here? Am I alive? What - how - where-?” Peter’s confusion solidified, and he sat up straighter, pushing himself forward even though it made him dizzy and black spots appeared on the edges of his vision. 

When he swung his legs over the side of the bed, a door on the far side of the room opened before he could stand. Peter paused, unsure what was happening. Nick Fury walked through the door before he had a chance to do anything, and Peter leaned back a little at the sight of the man, unsure. 

“How - who are you? Are you really Fury, or are you just a hologram too?” Peter’s voice was hoarse, and he had to stop to cough in the middle of his accusation. Fury strode over to him, glaring out of his good eye, and came to a halt in the exact same spot as Tony disappeared. 

“I’m real.” Peter looked at him up and down, distrusting. Fury sighed, and rolled his eye. “Alright, well how about being the only person who knows you were injected with a drug to make you appear dead? So when Beck outed you we’d declare you dead and set you up with a new identity?” Peter studied him a moment more, before huffing at him. 

“Okay, so you’re Fury. And I’m not dead. What now?” Fury shrugged, looking nonchalant. 

“Nobody but me and the doctors on staff know you’re not dead. We’ve set you up with a new identity, one that should stand up to pretty rigorous scrutiny. The drug we gave you was supposed to wear off in about twelve hours, but it mixed badly with whatever Beck gave you when he kidnapped you so you’ve been asleep for five days. We weren’t sure if you would wake up at all, actually, he gave you a lethal dose but your body metabolized it.” Peter blinked. At least that explained why he was starving and felt hungover. 

“Wait, you didn’t tell anyone? You said you’d tell my Aunt May! She needs to know that I’m fine!” Peter leaned forward again, pushing himself off the bed and onto wobbly legs. “She thinks I’m dead! Again!” Peter took one step and then another, one hand steadying him against the bed. “You have to let me - I need to talk to her, make sure she’s okay. And MJ and Ned and - oh.” Peter froze, another thought entering his head. “And, and Bucky. Is he - did he-?” Fury seemed to know what Peter was asking, which was good because Peter had no idea himself. 

“Bucky Barnes hunted down and captured Beck single handedly, delivering him here for detaining. He then went back to your safehouse and told your aunt you were dead.” Peter closed his eyes, processing. 

“So - he’s - he thinks I’m dead?” Peter’s legs were wobbling, and he took two steps back to lean against the bed. “What - where is he? Can I see them?” Fury grimaced. 

“Yes, you can see them. We weren’t sure if you would recover, so we didn’t tell your family. Going through the grief of losing someone is impossible, going through it twice in the span of a week is not something we wanted to take the chance on.” Peter nodded. 

“Yeah, I want to see them. Can I go now?” Fury pursed his lips and nodded again. Peter, feeling more up to standing, got his feet under him and with an arm braced on Fury’s outstretched wrist, walked across the room to the door. There were clothes for him to wear instead of the hospital scrubs, and he changed quickly. When he was offered soup or a pouch of applesauce, he took the applesauce, squeezing it into his mouth as they walked. 

Once Peter had something in his stomach, he felt a lot better. He looked down the long corridor and then back to Fury. 

“We’re at SHIELD?” Fury nodded. 

“Yes, Barnes carried you back here after he fished you out of that pond.” Peter didn’t remember any pond, but he kept quiet. “He’d probably at your aunt’s now, she invited him to stay with her since he didn’t have anywhere else to go.” 

Fury walked quickly, and Peter struggled to keep up. His strides weren’t as long as Fury’s, but he more or less kept pace with the man as he walked. 

Once they reached the door outside, Fury halted and Peter did too. Fury looked Peter up and down, appraising. “I don’t want to know the details of anything, you understand?” Peter nodded. “Good. Now Barnes, he’s a good man. He was hit mighty hard by your death. I’m not going to stop you telling him you’re alive, but you better be _damn_ sure you intend to stay that way for the road to come, because that boy will not stand losing you a second time. Do you understand?” Peter nodded, confused but not unhappy about the warning. “Good. There’s a car outside, the driver will take you wherever you want. But first, here.” 

Fury turned and took two things from his pocket, handing them to Peter. It was a pair of glasses, just like the ones he left with Bucky, and a thin leather wallet. Peter took the glasses and wallet, sticking the latter into his pocket absently. 

“What - are these the ones I - the ones Bucky had?” Peter slipped the glasses onto his face with shaking hands. 

Fury shook his head. “No, they’re a spare. He still has those, although I don’t know if he uses them.” Peter nodded absently. “The wallet contains your new identity, and everything you need. We’ll know where you are, but you should be set to do whatever you want with your life now.” 

EDITH, as soon as the glasses were put on, started running. Peter blinked at the readout, waiting for her to reconcile his death with the new information she was receiving from the glasses. After a few moments, he heard her voice in his ear. 

“P-Peter? Are you there?” Peter nodded, a hand slipping up to cup around the side of the glasses. He felt extra protective of the AI, and wished he could hug her in reassurance. 

“Yeah, EDITH, it’s me. Are you okay? I’ve been out for a while, I guess.” He saw Fury turning and retreating down a hallway out of the corner of his eye, and paid the man no mind. 

“Peter, you were dead. You’ve been officially declared dead, again.” Peter blinked. 

“What? I thought - Fury was going to say I died, yeah, but I get a new identity right?” Peter looked around the small room in confusion, but Fury was gone already. 

“Peter, you had to die properly for SHIELD to declare you dead and create a new identity for you. You-” She broke off, clearly searching for the words, and Peter’s heart broke a little. “Sargent Barnes watched you die, as did I.” Peter’s back hit the wall and he slid down slowly. 

“W-What?”

“Sargent Barnes carried your–your body to SHIELD before capturing and detaining the asshole.” Peter gulped, scrubbing a hand over his face. 

“Yeah, Fury said he brought me back. But h–he watched me die?” She bleeped an affirmative noise in his ear. “But – is he wearing the glasses? Can you tell him? That I’m not dead?” She was quiet for a long moment. 

“He is wearing the glasses, but I am unable to tell him currently.” Peter’s head jerked up in confusion. 

“What? Why – he’s not – is he okay?” 

“He is not injured or unable to communicate, Peter. But there was – there was an incident, and he determined that the best course of action would be to restrict his ability to interact with my systems if his blood alcohol content was over the legal limit.” Peter closed his eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. 

“So – he’s drunk? I thought he couldn’t get drunk?” He climbed shakily to his feet, and pushed open the door outside. 

The car Fury told him about was parked there, waiting. Peter slid into the back seat, nodding at the driver but not giving him an address yet. The driver sat back, content to wait. 

EDITH’s voice was apologetic in his ear. “Mr. Barnes cannot stay drunk for a long period of time, but he has been – _determined_ , and has not been sober for the better part of three days.” Peter felt a sharp pain in his gut at that, and he grimaced. 

“Okay. Well, uh, where is he? Right now?” EDITH gave the address of Peter and May’s apartment, and Peter repeated it to the driver, who pulled into traffic smoothly. “Thanks, EDITH. Can – you can’t tell him, because you’re not allowed to talk to him. I should probably wait to see him, anyway, or else he might think it’s a trick, or something.” Peter frowned. “Is he – how has he been? He thinks I’m dead?” 

“He – Peter, you have to understand, Mr. Barnes has been through a lot.” Peter nodded, and EDITH continued. “He – he’s been drunk since you died, more or less. He burned through a not insubstantial portion of his trust fund on alcohol, and my protests have had no effect. I believe he blames himself.” Peter’s heart clenched, and he curled in on himself in the seat. 

“H–He can’t, he would never have-“ Peter forced himself to take a breath and blink away the wetness in his eyes. “He tried to _save_ me, he carried me back to Fury, how could he think – shit, _Bucky_ .” Peter rubbed his hands over his face again, trying to keep himself under control. “I hurt him _so badly_. God, after everything, he’s never going to forgive me. I should have – I should have insisted that Fury tell May and Bucky that I was alive, should have fought back more when Beck kidnapped me, I-“ He broke off, unable to continue. 

“Peter, I do not believe he blames you. He is grieving, and once he knows you are alive he will be overjoyed.” Peter sucked in a shuddering breath. “He is not angry, Peter, and I do not believe he will hold it against you.” 

Peter glanced out the window and saw that they were almost there. He watched the cars pass by silently for long moments, trying to reconcile everything he’d learned. 

He didn’t say anything until the car stopped outside his old apartment, and thanked the driver before slipping out. He stood on the sidewalk in front of the steps up, trying to breathe. He’d been in nearly the same position once before, and he wasn’t sure if he could walk through that door again. 

_Maybe it would be better if I just disappear. Why should I force them to keep worrying over me and grieving when they think I’m dead? This way, they have the chance to move on._

He put his foot on the first step, and hesitated. EDITH’s readout blinked, and her voice was soft in his ear when she spoke. “Peter, they’re not going to hate you. You did what you had to do to keep them safe.” He steeled himself, and took the steps two at a time up to the front door. 

He put a hand up, unsure whether or not to knock. It was still his home, for all intents and purposes, but he felt uncomfortable just walking in. After a few moments of internal debate, he knocked softly on the door, feeling distinctly out of place. 

When he didn’t hear movement immediately, he shuffled, considering knocking again, but after a few long seconds, he heard soft footsteps in the hallway on the other side of the door. 

The handle turned and May appeared, her face confused as she cracked the door. When she saw Peter, her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. He tried to grin at her, but it came out more like a grimace. 

“Hi, May. I’m – I’m okay. Not dead. Again. Sorry you had to worry.” She opened and closed her mouth a few times and no sound came out, and only after Peter seriously started to worry about her did she pull the door open wider and reach out for him. 

Instead of drawing him into a hug immediately, like he expected, she poked his shoulder hard, and when her hand didn’t go straight through him, her face crumpled. Peter found himself in her arms, with May sobbing into his neck, and he brought his hands up to grip her back tightly. 

“P-Peter, oh my – how did – you were _dead_ , you were – Bucky carried you back to – oh – oh _Bucky_ , he’s going to be so-“ Her voice was soft and fragile, like she’d been crying a lot. Peter’s heart hurt, and he fisted his hands in her shirt, keeping her close and breathing in her perfume. She didn’t try to draw away, and they stood there for long minutes. 

Eventually, Peter let go and May let him move back a little, smiling thinly. “Peter – I – you have to talk to Bucky. He’s been – he’s not doing well, you’re – you _were_ dead, and he thinks it’s his fault.” Peter nodded, and she moved back to let him inside. He strode inside, and looked around. It was still much the same, and he didn’t stop to look for differences this time. 

May followed him inside, closing the door behind them, and stopped when Peter did. “He’s – I let him have the guest room, since he didn’t want – didn’t want to stay in your room. I kept meaning to go through your things, but there wasn’t the time.” She sighed, rubbing at the back of her neck. “I guess that’s good, though. Maybe I should just – just keep everything, if this – if this ever happens again. I really hope you’re not planning to die any more times anytime soon, I don’t know if my heart can take it.” Her attempt to joke fell flat, and they both stood awkwardly for a moment, just staring at each other. 

Peter’s eyes kept coming back to rest on the hallway leading to the guest rooms. May saw his hesitation and crossed her arms, looking at him. “Peter Parker, if you’re scared of that boy in there you cut that out right now. He’s going to be over the moon to see you.” Peter shuffled, and nodded, not meeting her eyes. She put her hands on his shoulders, and marched him down the hall. 

“I promise, he’ll be happy to see you. Now _go_.” She gave him a little shove when they got to the right door, and he stepped forward. He looked back at her, and she made a ‘shoo’ gesture at him, hanging back to let him go in alone. Peter sighed and put a hand on the knob, turning it gently. 

When he opened the door, the first thing that hit him was the smell of cheap vodka. It was pretty strong, and he blinked, his eyes watering. When he pushed the door open further, he saw a couple bottles on the ground, and a couple more on the table beside the bed. The bed held exactly one super-soldier, facedown with his head smooshed onto the pillow, hair sticking in every direction. 

Peter pushed the door wider and stepped inside the room, closing it behind him. Bucky didn’t stir, and when Peter crept closer to the bed he could tell the half-empty bottle on the side table must have been put down fairly recently. 

He hesitated, not wanting to touch Bucky unexpectedly, but not able to speak either. He circled slowly and crouched down, level with Bucky’s face. The man’s eyes were closed and he breathed in and out slowly, chest moving in rhythm with the breaths. 

Peter couldn’t help himself and reached up, placing his hand softly on Bucky’s cheek. Bucky’s eyes fluttered and he groaned in protest. When his eyes cracked open, his vision was unfocused for a few moments, and he finally fixed his eyes on Peter’s face. 

Peter smiled at him, unsure. He expected some kind of reaction from Bucky, but when the man grunted and closed his eyes again, ignoring Peter, he was confused. 

“Bucky?” Bucky groaned, and reached one hand up for the bottle on the nightstand, groping for the handle. Peter stopped his hand, and Bucky frowned, eyes still closed. 

“Fuck, whrsit?” Bucky’s grumbled complaint was soft, and Peter had to strain to make out the words. “Fukin- shit, c’mon, bottle-“ Peter took Bucky’s hand in both of his, holding it to his chest. 

“Bucky, hey. Are you with me?” Bucky’s eyes cracked open again, and he glanced at Peter before glancing away. 

“Yeh, fuck, and I wish I wasn’t.” Peter tried to control the hurt expression on his face, but Bucky saw it. “Shit, Pete, I can’t – you gotta stop, I gotta stop. I’m – not drunk enough to be h’llucinating yet, c’mon.” Peter gripped Bucky’s hand tighter to his chest as he understood. 

“Buck – shit, Bucky, wait. I’m not – I’m not a hallucination. I’m here.” Bucky closed his eyes again, trying to roll away from Peter, but Peter held tight. “Bucky, hey, look at me. Please.” Bucky opened his eyes again, and glared balefully at Peter. 

“What?” Peter brought the hand in his up to his mouth, kissing Bucky’s palm gently. 

“I – I’m okay, I’m alive. Again. You’re not hallucinating.” Bucky shook his head. 

“No, this is just some new kind of – some new kind of torture that my brain cooked up. Like the nightmares.” Peter clenched his hands tighter around Bucky’s, his breath hitching. “Ju-Jus go ‘way, okay? I’m – I’m sorry I got you killed, just stop haunting me.” Peter’s heart broke a little further at that, and he dropped Bucky’s hand to take his face in both hands. 

“Bucky – fuck, I’m here, I’m not – you didn’t get me killed. Shit, shit, I’m – I’m okay. I’m not dead.” Bucky blinked slowly at him, not comprehending. 

“You’re – no, you’re dead. I saw you die.” Peter shook his head, and pressed his forehead to Bucky’s. _“I killed you.”_

“I’m _not_ , and you _didn’t_ . Fury – he gave me something, some drug they have to make it look like I was dead. So they could get around Beck exposing me, and give me a new identity.” Bucky blinked again, and Peter sighed through his nose. “I’m – Fury was supposed to tell you. He was gonna _tell_ you and May so you didn’t worry. But Beck, he gave me something, they interacted badly, and I was out for a long longer than I should have been. Fury didn’t know if I would be okay so they didn’t tell you, and I’m going to kill him for that, but I’m _not dead_. I’m here. I came back for you.” 

Bucky didn’t move save for blinking for long moments, his alcohol-soaked brain working through the information. “P-Peter?” Peter nodded hurriedly, stroking his fingers over Bucky’s cheeks. 

“Yeah, Buck, it’s me. I’m here.” Bucky nodded at him, haltingly, and his eyes moved over Peter’s face, inches from his own. 

“How – why – you’re _here_.” Peter wasn’t sure what he expected, but whatever he thought Bucky would do, it wasn’t bursting into tears. He found himself with a sudden armful of Bucky pressed into his chest, arms wrapping around him. 

“Woah, hey, Bucky, hey.” Peter rubbed at his back, unsure what else he could do. “Hey, it’s okay, I’m okay. We’ll be okay.” At his words, Bucky shuddered but didn’t do anything else to acknowledge him, hands fisting into Peter’s shirt tightly. Bucky pressed his face into Peter’s shoulder, tugging him closer. His breathing came short and quick, and Peter could feel the wetness soaking through his thin shirt. 

After a few minutes, Bucky’s hold on Peter loosened slightly and Peter looked down, unsure. Bucky took one deep, shuddering breath through the cloth under his mouth and then another, and then lifted his head. His eyes were red rimmed and his mouth clenched, tight with grief, but he was still _Bucky_ and that was all Peter needed. 

Slowly, so slowly that Bucky could have stopped him if he wanted to, Peter leaned down and closed the gap between their mouths. The kiss wasn’t anything like the other times they kissed - it was soft and Peter poured himself into it, trying to make Bucky realize that he was _there_ and wasn’t leaving again. 

Bucky kissed back just as eagerly, needing confirmation. All too soon the kiss broke but they stayed close, panting into each other’s mouths. 

Bucky finally moved, removing his hands from Peter’s chest and drawing back slightly. 

“Are – you’re really here. I’m not dreaming, or hallucinating?” Peter nodded, watching the other man warily. He wasn’t sure what Bucky was feeling, and he didn’t want to do anything the other man wasn’t comfortable with. “And you’re – you came back. To me.” Peter nodded again. 

Bucky pressed his forehead back to Peter’s, looking him in the eyes. “Peter – I – I’m not okay. I’m so very far from okay, I’ve had pretty much everyone I ever knew and loved taken away from me.” Peter’s heart clenched at the admission. “And – at this point I’m not sure if it’s not me, if it’s not _my fault_ for driving people away.” Peter shook his head. 

“No, Bucky you-“ Bucky stopped him before he could get any further. 

“No, no. I just – I need to say this. Peter, you’re _here_. And y-you came back. For me.” Peter nodded again. “And you don’t – that’s – I can’t tell you how much that means.” He broke off, his voice betraying the tears threatening to spill over again. 

Peter’s fingers curled in his shirt, holding him closer. When Bucky started talking again, his voice was slightly steadier. “I just – fuck Peter, I think I’m in love with you and it _hurts_ . And I spent the last week sitting here hating myself for not telling you, and for _loving_ you because it got you killed.” Peter opened his mouth to protest again, but Bucky silenced him with a soft look. “So just, I need you to know. I’m not a good person to be around. People die around me, and I – I can’t lose you again. If you really want to be with me, you’re going to have to put up with me being overprotective and demanding and utterly ridiculous.” Peter nodded at him, and ran one hand over Bucky’s cheek. 

“Yes, please. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Bucky’s face crumpled again, and he moved. This time Peter found lips pressed against his, Bucky’s demanding kiss pushing him back as he worked his tongue into Peter’s mouth. Peter kissed him equally fiercely, trying to make his intentions clear through the kiss. Peter knew they were likely in for a lot of pain and heartbreak over the course of their lives, but he was determined to spend as much of the rest of his with Bucky by his side, and watching his back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said in the A/N at the beginning, it was always my plan that Peter wasn't dead. This isn't me caving to pressure or whatever. It took longer to write this chapter because I've been having a hard time writing, but the goal was to have y'all think Peter was dead for as long as Bucky did, about a week. If you missed it (I don't know how obvious it was) the thing Tony said to Peter about not wasting his life was exactly the same thing Yinsen said to Tony when he was dying. I rewatched that scene to make sure I had the wording right and I was def sobbing a bit as I wrote that. 
> 
> Please be nice if you're gonna comment, I have serious anxiety and I cannot take more people telling me that I should have left it a WIP instead of finishing it the way I did. I like writing but I only want to do it if I feel like people are gonna appreciate it, not shit on me. Thanks for your consideration, everyone, and thanks for the support on this journey :)

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I'm a slut for comments and kudos. :)
> 
> If you like my writing, please consider buying me a coffee to let me know! :) https://ko-fi.com/sweetesthoney
> 
> Beta-ed by tfwfangirlsatk, who always kicks ass and helps me figure out plot details! 
> 
> I help run a discord dedicated to MCU rarepairs and thirst (lol), and everyone is welcome! Please feel free to join us: https://discord.gg/uTpcTaW


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